"As thrue as life, I did," said Mary, slightly awe-struck.
"I was there and saw you do it."
"Where were you, Corney?"
"Sittin' on the end of his nose."
Of course that was proof positive, but inasmuch as Mary always did kiss the boy before she left the house, the coincidence becomes less remarkable.
It only remains for me to say, that the circumstance made a very favorable change in Corney's disposition, or rather dissipated the cloud which obscured his real character. Mary found her account in it, by an increase of industry on his part, and he was rewarded by a corresponding anxiety in her, to make his home happy. Many and many a time would he give an account of his aerial journey, religiously convinced of its reality; once only Mary just ventured to insinuate that it might possibly have been a dream, but the I-pity-your-ignorance-look which Corney gave her, made her heartily ashamed of having hazarded so stupid an opinion, and, as a matter of course, she soon believed as implicitly as her husband, the wonderful adventure of The Fairy Circle.
O'BRYAN'S LUCK.
A TALE OF NEW YORK.
CHAPTER I.
THE MERCHANT-PRINCE.