“Which excited her excessively, I should say, if it really was the ride.”
“Of course it was the ride. And I admit that she was very gay,” laughed Mr. Berners.
“Gay?” echoed Rosa, raising her eyebrows—“Gay? Why, she was almost delirious, my friend.”
“Oh! well; Sybil gives full vent to her feelings; always did, always will. My little wife is in many respects a mere child, you know,” said Mr. Berners, tenderly.
“Ah! what a happy child, to have her faults so kindly indulged! I wish I were that child!” sighed Rosa.
“But why should you wish to be anything else but yourself, being so charming as you are?” he softly inquired.
“Do you really like me, just as I am, Mr. Berners?” she meekly inquired, dropping her eyes.
“I really do. I have told you so, Rosa,” he answered, approaching her, and taking her hand.
She sighed and turned away her head; but she left her hand in his clasp.
“Dear Rosa! dear child!” he murmured. “You are not happy.”