“A young man looks at the outward graces of form and complexion,” said the doctor gravely; “a man of my age looks for those of the mind. He wants a companion who can talk.”
“Oh, I can talk,” said Mary merrily; “can’t I, Claude?”
“Mary, dear, I must request that you will not speak like this,” said Claude, very gravely. “You hurt me; and would you mind going in again and seeing if papa is awake.”
“Are you going to send me to bed, too, for being a naughty girl?” said Mary, rising.
Claude made no reply, but there was a good deal conveyed in her intent gaze, which for that moment Mary seemed to resent; but directly after her bright eyes beamed upon her cousin, and she passed close behind her chair, giving her an affectionate tap on the shoulder as she passed.
As she reached the door she turned, and there was a merry, yet half-pathetic look in her eyes as she said quickly—
“No, thank you, Doctor Asher, I am a kind of lay nun.”
“Mary says a great deal sometimes that she does not mean,” said Claude quickly. “But as papa does not seem to come, you would like a little seltzer water and the spirits, would you not?”
“I? No, no, my dear child, no,” said the doctor, taking out his watch. “I do take these things sometimes for sociability’s sake, but I always avoid them if I can, and I have a good opportunity here. Eleven o’clock. How the time flies. I must be off.”
“Pray don’t say no because the spirits are not in the room.”