“Helen says it’s not best to go on with the Pole, and is perfectly nonsensical, uncle,” began Amy, petulantly, and not very coherently.
“Better be silly now than sorry by and by. I only suggested that, being interesting, and Amy romantic, she might find this young man too charming, if we see too much of him,” said Helen.
“Bless my soul, what an idea!” cried the major. “Why, Nell, he’s an invalid, a Catholic, and a foreigner, any one of which objections are enough to settle that matter. Little Amy isn’t so foolish as to be in danger of losing her heart to a person so entirely out of the question as this poor lad, is she?”
“Of course not. You do me justice, uncle. Nell thinks she may pity and pet any one she likes because she is five years older than I, and entirely forgets that she is a great deal more attractive than a feeble thing like me. I should as soon think of losing my heart to Hoffman as to the Pole, even if he wasn’t what he is. One may surely be kind to a dying man, without being accused of coquetry;” and Amy sobbed in the most heart-rending manner.
Helen comforted her by withdrawing all objections, and promising to leave the matter in the major’s hands. But she shook her head privately when she saw the ill-disguised eagerness with which her cousin glanced up and down the platform after they were in the train, and she whispered to her uncle, unobserved,—
“Leave future meetings to chance, and don’t ask the Pole in, if you can help it.”
“Nonsense, my dear. You are as particular as your aunt. The lad amuses me, and you can’t deny you like to nurse sick heroes,” was all the answer she got, as the major, with true masculine perversity, put his head out of the window and hailed Casimer as he was passing with a bow.
“Here, Teblinski, my good fellow, don’t desert us. We’ve always a spare seat for you, if you haven’t pleasanter quarters.”
With a flush of pleasure the young man came up, but hesitated to accept the invitation till Helen seconded it with a smile of welcome.
Amy was in an injured mood, and, shrouded in a great blue veil, pensively reclined in her corner as if indifferent to everything about her. But soon the cloud passed, and she emerged in a radiant state of good humor, which lasted unbroken until the journey ended.