“Major Harper.”
Agatha's storm of passion sank to a dead calm. She sat down again composedly, turning her flushed cheeks from the light.
“This is a new and very entertaining story. You will be kind enough, Emma, to tell me the whole, from beginning to end.”
“It all lies in a nutshell, my dear. Oh, how glad I am that you take it so quietly. Then, perhaps it is all a mistake, arising from your hearty manner to every one. I told him so, and said that he need not scruple visiting you, or be in the least afraid that——”
“That I was in love with him? He was afraid, then? He informed you so? Very kind of him! I am very much obliged to Major Harper.”
“There now—off you go again. Oh, if you would but be patient”
“Patient—when the only friend I had insults me!—when I have neither father, nor brother,—nobody—nobody——”
She stopped, and her throat choked; but the struggle was in vain; she burst into uncontrollable tears.
“You have me, Agatha, always me, and James!” cried Emma, hanging about her neck, and weeping for company; until, very soon, the proud girl shut down the floodgates of her passion, and became herself again. Herself—as she could not have been, were there a mightier power dwelling in her heart than pride.
“Now, Emma, since you have seen how the thing has vexed me, though not”—and she laughed—“not as being one of the many dozens of fools in love with Major Harper—will you tell me how this amusing circumstance arose?”