CHAPTER VIII.
El. Lo. Mistress, I came to see you.
Lady. That's happily dispatched—the next!
El. Lo. To take leave of you.
Lady. You need not have despaired of that, nor have
used so many circumstances to win me to give
you leave to perform my commands. Is there
a third?
El. Lo. Yes! I had a third, had you been apt to hear it.
Lady. I? never after—Fast, good servant, fast.
El. Lo. 'Twas to intreat you to hear Reason.
Lady. Most willingly—have you brought one can speak
it?
El. Lo. Lastly, it is to kindle in that barren heart Love
and Forgiveness.
THE SCORNFUL LADY.
"I am sorry you are going to-morrow," said Mr. Humphries the next morning at breakfast to Mr. Gage; "I wanted you to see my Arab."
"I will ride over this morning," said Mr. Gage, "I have nothing else to do."
"He was so sick on the passage, that they did not think he would have lived," said Mr. Humphries, turning to Margaret. "He's better now."
"Poor creature! I didn't know horses were ever sea-sick," said Margaret.
"They are wonderful animals," said Harriet, "I wish somebody would write a novel about a horse."
"You used to be so fond of horses," said Mr. Singleton.
"So I am, comparatively," said Harriet, glancing around at the gentlemen present.
Margaret had often a hard matter to preserve her gravity, but now she was vexed with Harriet, who had employed herself ever since she came down stairs in petting Mr. Humphries, on purpose to pique Mr. Gage. She offered him cream and sugar; she gave him advice about his diet; showed him the best way to eat a smelt; fussed about his toast; and took more trouble to make him comfortable, than she had ever done with anybody before.