But the lady shook her grey sausage curls slowly, and elaborately began to unfold a large bordered pocket-handkerchief, puckered up her plump countenance, gazed piteously at the sweet face on her right, bent her head over to her charming niece on the left, and then proceeded to up a few tears.
“No, no, no, Fred; not a drop more. It only makes me worse; I can’t help it, my love.”
“Yes, you can, old lady. Come, try and stop it. You’ll make Bel cry too.”
“I wish she would, Fred, and repent before it’s too late.”
“What!” cried the doctor.
“Don’t shout at me, my dear. I want to see her repent. It’s very nice to see the carriages come trooping, and to know what a famous doctor you are; but you don’t understand my complaint, Fred.”
“Oh yes, I do, old lady. Grumps, eh, Laury?”
“No, no, my dear. It’s heart. I’ve suffered too much, and the sight of Isabel Lee, here, coming and playing recklessly on the very brink of such a precipice, is too much for me.”
The tears now began to fall fast, and the two girls rose from their seats simultaneously to try and comfort the sufferer.
“Playing? Precipice?” cried the young doctor. “Step back, Bel dear; you shouldn’t. Auntie, what do you mean?”