One afternoon Wenceslaus aroused me from my sweet afternoon nap with the intimation that a pretty woman wanted to speak to me.
"Really pretty?"
"Oh yes!"
"Oh yes?"
"Oh yes, yes!"
It was indeed "oh yes!" for it was Bessy.
She was dressed in complete mourning, with a black silk veil over her head. I saw from her eyes that she was in mourning for my fate.
I anticipated her by making her a compliment.
"Why, how nice you look, my dear ward! The country air seems to agree with you."
With this I put a stop to her tearful anxiety on my account.