Mowbray took off the gloves, asking himself, with a sad smile, what charm this boy exercised over him.
"There they are then, Charles," he said; "I can refuse you nothing."
"Suppose I asked for the hand as well as the gloves?"
"The hand? Perfectly at your service," said Mowbray, holding out his hand; "I can only give it to you in a friendly spirit, however, and there it is."
"No," said Hoffland, drawing back; "I will not accept it upon those terms—but I have the gloves. Thank you, Ernest. Perhaps some day I may ask you to accept a present from me; or at least I promise not to refuse you if you ask what I have this moment refused."
And laughing heartily, Hoffland cried:
"Just look at those flowers! and there is the great city of Williamsburg! We pass from Indian Camps to learned halls—from barbarism to civilization. Come! let us get into Gloucester street—that promenade of elegance and fashion! Come on, Ernest!"
And they entered the town.[(Back to Table of Content.)]