"Sir, she is a very darling sister to me, but not pretty at all,—only very interesting; and she is very young to be married."
"She is married, then?" He smiled still more inquiringly.
"Yes, sir, she is married to Mr. Davy, my musical godfather."
"I remember; and this Mr. Davy, is he here too?" He left off speaking, and sat upon the side of my bed, tucking up one foot like a little boy.
"Yes, sir."
"And now, I shall ask thee a favor."
"What is that, sir?"
"That thou wilt let me see her and speak to her; I want to tell her what a brother she has. Not only so, to invite her—do not be shy, Carlomein—to my birthday feast."
"Oh, sir!" I exclaimed; and regardless of his presence, I threw myself into the very length of my bed and covered my face.
"Now, if thou wilt come to my feast, is another question. I have not reached that yet."