"That only makes the matter worse; the slaughter you commit is dreadful."
"Oh!" cried John, with a laugh, "the ci-devant Captain Jarvis is a sportsman to your mind. He would shoot a month without moving a feather; he was a great friend to," throwing an arch look to his solitary sister, who sat on a sofa at a distance perusing a book, "Jane's feathered songsters."
"But now, Mosely," said Grace, yielding the flints, but gently retaining the hand that took them, "Pendenyss and Chatterton intend driving their wives, like good husbands, to see the beautiful waterfall in the mountains; and what am I to do this long tedious morning?"
John stole an enquiring glance, to see if his wife was very anxious to join the party--cast one look of regret on a beautiful agate that he had selected, and inquired--
"Do you wish to go very much, Mrs. Mosely?"
"Indeed--indeed I do," said the other, eagerly, "if--"
"If what?"
"You will drive me?" continued she, with a cheek slightly tinged with color.
"Well, then," answered John, with deliberation, and regarding his wife with affection "I will go on one condition."
"Name it!" cried Grace, with still increasing color.