“You are rightly punished, Master Miles,” she cried; “for you had no business to anticipate surprises. They are vulgar things at best, and they are worse than that when they come from a distance of fifteen thousand miles—from a brother to a sister. Besides, you have surprised us sufficiently once, already, in connection with Miss Merton.”
“I!” I exclaimed.
“Me!” added Emily.
“Yes, I and me; did you tell us one word about her, in your letters? and have you not now both surprised and delighted us, by making us acquainted with so charming a person? I can pardon such a surprise, on account of its consequences; but nothing so vulgar as a surprise about pearls.”
Emily blushed now; and in her it was possible to tell the difference between a blush and the suffusion that arose from a different feeling; but she looked immensely superior to anything like explanations.
“Captain Wallingford”—how I disliked that Captain—“Captain Wallingford can have but little knowledge of young ladies,” she said, coldly, “if he supposes such pearls as he possesses would not form the subject of their conversation.”
I was coxcomb enough to fancy Emily was vexed that I had neglected to be more particular about her being on the island, and her connection with the ship. This might have been a mistake; however.
“Let us see the pearls, Miles; and that will plead your apology,” said Lucy.
“There, then—your charming eyes, young ladies, never looked on pearls like those, before.”
Female nature could not suppress the exclamations of belight that succeeded. Even Rupert, who had a besetting weakness on the subject of all personal ornaments, laid aside his segar, and came within the prescribed distance, the better to admire. It was admitted all round, New York had nothing to compare with them. I then mentioned that they had been fished up by myself from the depths of the sea.