he was calmly and leisurely arranging in a pyramidal form on a three-legged stool. Above swung figured placards, with museum and lyceum advertisements too verbose to be misconstrued.
A mature matron of medium height and her comely daughter soon entered the car, and took seats in front of Winthrop (who recalled having seen them one Tuesday in February in the parquet of a theatre). The young lady had recently made her debut into society at a musical soiree at her aunt’s. She had an exquisite bouquet of flowers that exhaled sweet perfume. She said to her parent, “Mamma, shall we ever find our lost Leicester?”
Geoffrey immediately addressed her, saying, as he presented his card—
“Pardon my apparent intrusiveness; but prithee, have you lost a pet dog?”
The explanation that he had been stolen was scarcely necessary, for Leicester, just awakening, vehemently expressed his inexplicable joy by buoyantly vibrating between the two like the sounding lever used in telegraphy (for to neither of them would he show partiality) till, succumbing to ennui, he purported to take a recess, and sat on his haunches, complacently contemplating his friends. It was truly an interesting picture.
They reached their destination ere the sun was beneath the horizon. Often during the summer Winthrop gallantly rowed from the quay with the naive and blithe Beatrice, in her jaunty yachting suit, but no coquetry shone from the depths of her azure eyes. Little Less, their jocund confidante and courier (and who was as sagacious as a spaniel) always attended them on these occasions, and whene’er they rambled through the woodland paths. While the band played Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Bach, and others, they promenaded the long corridors of
the hotel. And one evening, as Beatrice lighted the gas by the etagere in her charming boudoir in their suite of rooms, there glistened brilliantly a valuable solitaire diamond on her finger.
Let us look into the future for the sequel to perfect this romance, and around a cheerful hearth we see again Geoffrey and Beatrice, who are paying due homage to their tiny friend Leicester.
—Quarterly Elocutionist.
