Schillie.—"I know that quite well, but, if you will go to sleep, and leave me to my own dull thoughts, how can I help thinking of my being so ill-behaved as to leave them for such a period."
June.—"It was you that made me go to sleep first. But, however, I must comfort you, and remind you how kind your father is to them, and how your mother's sole business in life is to see that they have double as much as they ought to have. And how your sister, that best of Kittie's, is more than a mother to them; indeed most strangers take her for their mother, and you for an unnatural sort of aunt."
Schillie.—"Well, that may be true, June, but you should not upbraid me with it now I am so sad; I don't pretend to be a fond mother, but I hope I am a good one."
June.—"Come! don't be so horribly pathetic; it does not suit you at all, but, if you are really very unhappy, the captain will be here in ten days or so, and then we will all go home."
Schillie.—"But, how do I know if we may not all be drowned in going home, or have a fire at sea, or something should occur which will prevent me ever seeing my little chicks again," and the great tears rolled one by one down her round blooming cheeks.
This was getting a most serious business, so I said in an angry manner as it were, "You are too absurd! just as if every day when at home you don't put your life into imminent danger, riding that frangy beast, who every ten yards has either his heels or his toes in the air."
Schillie.—"Heels and toes! Whoever heard a horse spoken of in such terms? And after all the pains I have taken with your equine education, to talk in such terms of a little playfulness! I would not give two-pence to ride a horse that goes straight along."
June.—"I should not call that playful riding to come home with one's hands all blistered from holding the animal in. For my part, I never saw you go down the carriage road, on that beast Staunton, with his tail flying and his legs anywhere but on the road, without preparing my nerves for seeing your mangled remains brought home on a shutter."
Schillie.—"Mangled fiddlesticks! Did you ever see such a butterfly? Don't catch it; you'll hurt it. There, it is settled now. I wonder what his name is?"
So her thoughts being diverted we wandered on, the heat dried the big tears, and we made many grand discoveries; amongst others, that the rocks were wholly composed of coral.