"What?"
"I mean, that the more slaves one owns the less disposed he is to have them whipped. You, who confess to possessing none, are very ready to beat them all."
"Are you trying to pick a quarrel with me?" the Captain, demanded angrily.
"There you go, spoiling the picture again!" Sir Edward laughed. "I shall have to ask you to take your face—ah! here comes one who, assuredly, will not spoil the picture. Bon jour, mademoiselle!" he called, springing up and going forward.
"What are you two men doing?" said Miss Stirling.—"Why, Captain Herford, what ails you? your face is as glum as the Lord Chancellor's."
"It will be so no longer," Herford answered. "Even the Lord Chancellor's would reflect the presence of such a luminary."
She knitted her brows, as though perplexed. "By which, I infer, you mean, I am a luminary. Is that complimentary?"
"It is—at least, it was, so intended."
"How very nice!" she exclaimed. "Your compliments are so delicate, oftentimes go over my head—a lovely view, Sir Edward!" turning toward him.
"Charming—charming!" said he, looking straight at her.