"Thursday Morning."
"I am so sorry!" exclaimed Ida, when informed of this. "Uncle Hal is always beau enough, but the more the merrier, you know, dear uncle," added she, linking her arm in mine, and looking artlessly up into my face.
"You are quite right, my dear," said I. "I like your frankness, and I am sorry to lose Alloway myself."
As I was going out of the "Ladies' Entrance" with your cousins, I perceived my young friend supporting the steps of a pale, emaciated gentleman, who coughed violently, and walked with difficulty, even from the carriage to the door, though sustained on the other side also by an elderly lady. I drew the girls aside, that they might pass uninterruptedly.
"I hope you are well this morning, ladies," said Alloway, raising his hat, as he caught sight of
us. "Good morning, Colonel Lunettes."
"Good morning, again, ladies!" said a cheerful, but subdued voice behind us, as the girls and I were seated together, examining the merry "Wine-tasters" of the Gallery, after having devoted some time to subjects of a more elevated moral tone.
We turned our heads simultaneously. "Good morning, sir," said Alloway, for it was he; "with your leave, I will join you now."
Your cousins made room for him between them. "I am so happy not wholly to lose this," said he, bowing to each of the ladies. "I feared I could not meet you here even as early as this."