“Listen to me, Virginia. I have something important—very important to talk about. I have been desirous of breaking the subject to you ever since my return.”
“Well, why did you not? you have had opportunities enough. Have I been hid from you?”
“No—but—the fact is—”
“Go on, brother; you have an opportunity now. If it be a petition, as your looks appear to say, present it; I am ready to receive it.”
“Nay, Virginia; it is not that. The subject upon which I wish to speak—”
“What subject, man? Out with it!”
I was weary with so much circumlocution, and a little piqued as well; I resolved to bring it to an end. A word, thought I, will tame down her tone, and render her as serious as myself, I answered:
“Osceola.”
I looked to see her start, to see her cheek turn alternately red and pale; but to my astonishment no such symptoms displayed themselves; not the slightest indication of any extraordinary emotion betrayed itself either in her look or manner.
She replied almost directly and without hesitation: