"What else did you think they were?" shortly asked Kate—"birds?"
Mr. Trim's fancy was much tickled at the idea. He shut his little eyes and laughed immoderately. When he recovered, he went up to Miriam, who sat indifferent and calm, like one taking no share in what was passing. Mr. Trim hoped she was quite well; she replied quite, with the most scornful civility. He hoped she had been quite well since he last saw her. She had been quite well. He hoped she would continue to be quite well. She hoped so too, and took up a book. Undeterred by this, Mr. Trim drew a chair near the angle of the sofa in which she sat, and spite of her astonished look, there he remained.
Cornelius had resumed his place between Miriam and me, and I had the honour of next attracting Mr. Trim's attention.
"I am quite well now," I replied, in answer to his inquiries, "but I have had the small-pox."
"Had the small-pox, eh? Let me see; I am half blind, you know."
He raised the lamp, surveyed me through his half-shut eyes, then said admiringly—
"A very fair escape. Don't you think the little thing's complexion is improved, Ma'am?"
He addressed Miriam, who acquiesced by a silent bend of her queen-like head.
"Altogether," continued Mr. Trim, "she looks better. Now do you know,
Ma'am, that at sixteen Daisy will be quite a pretty girl."
Miriam smiled ironically. Cornelius looked at me, and complacently observed—