“Why don’t you close the shutters?” suggested Miss Tabs.
“Because of a whim of master’s to keep all the windows open till bed-time, most especially on stormy nights, when they may serve for beacons to guide the belated traveler to the shelter of this roof. Lord bless the admiral and mend his ways, so kind to all the world, so cruel to his own dear darter,” sighed Mrs. Broadsides.
“His daughter?” echoed Mr. Antonio.
“Yes, his darter, my young missus, as run off with a young lieutenant in a marching regiment, and married him all for love. She went ’long of him everywhere, and may have died of fever in the Crimea, or been massacred in India, for aught we’ve heard of her since her marriage; for it’s as much as any one’s life’s worth to mention her name in master’s presence.”
“And is he so hard all these years that he won’t make friends with her?”
“Make friends with her? You don’t know him. He won’t even hear her name,” put in Jerry Jessup.
“Wish I was his wally-de-sham. I’d ding it into his ears morning, noon and night. I’d bring it up with his hot water and lay it down with his slippers, and put it on with his night-cap every day of his life,” said Miss Tabs, valiantly.
“No you wouldn’t, for the very first time you tried it, you’d get pitched out of the window or down the stairs, and have your neck broken. Heaven save me, there it is again!” cried the woman, breaking off in terror.
All looked towards the window. Jessup wrung his neck around nearly to the point of dislocation, exclaiming:
“Where now? I tell you there’s nothing there. It’s all your own nerves. Mrs. Broadsides, ma’am, you want a dose of assafiddity.”