But a much more animated colloquy was taking place aloft, where Lucy and Mrs. Berry sat alone. Lucy expected her to talk about the reception they had met with, and the house, and the peculiarities of the rooms, and the solid happiness that seemed in store. Mrs. Berry all the while would persist in consulting the looking-glass. Her first distinct answer was, "My dear! tell me candid, how do I look?"
"Very nice indeed, Mrs. Berry; but could you have believed he would be so kind, so considerate?"
"I am sure I looked a frump," returned Mrs. Berry. "Oh dear! two birds at a shot. What do you think, now?"
"I never saw so wonderful a likeness," says Lucy.
"Likeness! look at me." Mrs. Berry was trembling and hot in the palms.
"You're very feverish, dear Berry. What can it be?"
"Ain't it like the love-flutters of a young gal, my dear."
"Go to bed, Berry, dear," says Lucy, pouting in her soft caressing way. "I will undress you, and see to you, dear heart! You've had so much excitement."
"Ha! ha!" Berry laughed hysterically; "she thinks it's about this business of hers. Why, it's child's-play, my darlin'. But I didn't look for tragedy to-night. Sleep in this house I can't, my love!"
Lucy was astonished. "Not sleep here, Mrs. Berry?—Oh! why, you silly old thing? I know."