"I think her father's death has changed her a little. She appears more thoughtful and womanly: don't she brother?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if she were in love," suggested the other.
"O fie, brother, she's not in love, unless it be with you; or she would have confided it to me. Moreover," she continued, seeing an incredulous smile playing upon her brother's lips, "you must yourself admit that it would be a very strange freak for a young lady in love to voluntarily put the ocean between herself and the object of her affections. I verily believe our Little Wolf is more anxious if possible, to start on the tour than we are."
"Yes, so do I," admitted her brother, "and I can't account for it."
"O, it is simply to run away from Mr. Alfred Marsden," was the ironic reply.
"I do assure you, sister, that you greatly mistake our mutual sentiments."
"Not yours, certainly, brother, and I think not hers; but I'll find out."
"For Heaven's sake, don't broach the matter to her, sister," said young Marsden in alarm, "It would spoil all the pleasure of our trip. Indeed, I know she would not go at all."
"Nonsense, brother, do you think me a goose? I would not be so indelicate; no indeed. There are more ways than you have dreamed of, for ferreting out a love secret."
"O yes, I know such secrets develope themselves in a thousand forms, and if there is anything of that nature in her breast it will transpire in due time."