“You insolent—”
Captain Armstrong did not finish his sentence, for there was a something in the frank, handsome, manly face of his cousin that meant mischief, and he threw himself into a chair with an angry snarl, such as might be given by a dog who wanted to attack but did not dare.
Chapter Two.
At the Cottage.
“What’s she a-doing of now?”
“Blubbering.”
“Why, that’s what you said yesterday. She ar’n’t been a-blubbering ever since?”
“Yes, she have, Bart; and the day afore, and the day afore that. She’s done nothing else.”