"Here, Anthony," said Charles, "Miss Emmerson has sent you ten dollars, for driving so well, and saving the carriage."
"Ah! sir, it is no matter—I can ask nothing for that,
I'm sure."
But Charles, accustomed to the backwardness of the common Americans to receive more than the price stipulated, still extended his hand towards the man. Julia saw his embarrassment, and knowing of no other expedient by which to relieve him, said, in a voice of persuasion—
"Take it for my sake, Antonio—if it be unworthy of you, still, take it, to oblige me."
The man no longer hesitated, but took the money, and gave Julia a look and a bow that sunk deep into the tablet of her memory—while Charles thought him extremely well paid for what he had done, but made due allowances for the excited state of his cousin's feelings.
"You perceive," said Miss Emmerson, with a smile, as Julia withdrew from the window, "if Charles be a little afraid of lightning, he has no dread of the water."
"Ah! I retract my error," cried Julia; "Charles must be brave, or he never could have acted so coolly, and so well."
"Very true, my love," said Miss Emmerson, excessively gratified to hear her niece praise the youth; "it is the surest test of courage when men behave with presence of mind in novel situations. Those accustomed to particular dangers easily discharge their duties, because they know, as it were instinctively, what is to be done. Thus with Tony—he did well, but, I doubt not, he was horribly frightened—and for the world he could not have done what Charles did."
"Not Antonio!" echoed Julia, thrown a little off her guard—"I would pledge my life, aunt, that Antonio would have done as much, if not more, than Charles!"
"Why did he not, then?—-It was his place to stop the carriage—-why did he not?"