“Of course, Judge; I’ll show them to you myself,” and Mrs. McVeigh let fall the last of the vines and joined him at the window––“so charming of you to remember them at all.”
“Don’t you want to go along and study the progress of autumn roses?” asked Evilena, peering around the window at Delaven, who laughed at the pretended demureness and timidity with which she invested the question.
“Not at this moment, my lady. Autumn roses, indeed!––while there’s a wild flower in sight––not for the O’Delavens!”
And the O’Delaven’s bright Irish eyes had so quizzical a smile in them the girl blushed and was covered with confusion as with a mantle, and gathering the blossoms in her arms seated herself ostentatiously close to Mr. Loring’s chair while she arranged them, and Delaven might content himself with a view of one pink ear and a delicious dimple in one cheek, which he contemplated from the lounging chair back of her, and added to his occupation by humming, very softly, a bit of the old song:
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“Ten years have gone by and I have not a dollar; Evilena still lives in that green grassy hollow; And though I am fated to marry her never, I’m sure that I’ll love her for ever and ever!” |
“For ever and ever! I say, Miss Evilena, how do you suppose the fellow in the song could be so dead sure of himself, for ever and ever?”
“Probably he wasn’t an Irishman,” suggested the girl, bending lower over the blossoms that he might not see her smiling.
“Arrah, now, I had conjured up a finer reason than that entirely; it had something to do with the charms of your 222 namesake, but I’ll not be telling you of it while you carry a nettle on your tongue to sting poor harmless wanderers with.”
His pondrous sigh was broken in on by her laughter, and the beat of hoofs on the drive. While they looked at each other questioningly the voice of Judithe was heard speaking to Pluto, and then humming the refrain of Evilena’s favorite, “Bonnie Blue Flag,” she ran up to the veranda where Mrs. McVeigh met her.