CHAPTER X.
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"Will you buy any tape, Or lace for your cape?— Come to the pedlar, Money's a medler That doth utter all men's ware-a." Winter's Tale. |
There they sat, those four young creatures, a perfect galaxy of bright and beaming eyes. There was not a plain face among them; and I was struck with the circumstance of how rare it was to meet with a youthful and positively ugly American female. Kitty, too, was at the door by the time we reached the carriage, and she also was a blooming and attractive-looking girl. It was a thousand pities that she spoke, however; the vulgarity of her utterance, tone of voice, cadences, and accent, the latter a sort of singing whine, being in striking contrast to a sort of healthful and vigorous delicacy that marked her appearance. All the bright eyes grew brighter as I drew nearer, carrying the flute in my hand; but neither of the young ladies spoke.
"Buy a vatch, ma'ams," said uncle Ro, approaching his mother, cap in hand, with his box open.
"I thank you, friend; but I believe all here are provided with watches already."
"Mine ist ferry sheaps."
"I dare say they may be," returned dear grandmother, smiling; "though cheap watches are not usually the best. Is that very pretty pencil gold?"
"Yes, ma'ams; it ist of goot gold. If it might not be, I might not say so."
I saw suppressed smiles among the girls; all of whom, however, were too well-bred to betray to common observers the sense of the ridiculous that each felt at the equivoque that suggested itself in my uncle's words.