“Governess! Young person, indeed! Why, if I ever saw the mark of the true and cultured lady in any one, I do in her,” he replied, with enthusiasm.
“Nonsense, Wilbur! I hope you do not allow your head to be turned by every pretty face you chance to meet.”
“Not I,” and the young man tossed his head, with a gay laugh. “But this Miss Douglas is something more than pretty. Hers is a face which, if a man learned to love, he would gladly serve twice seven years for the sake of making its owner his wife.”
This was said partly to tease his sister, for he well knew her weak points; yet, it must be confessed, he had been startled by Brownie’s wondrous beauty.
“Pshaw! Wilbur, I shall get entirely out of patience with you if you run on like that; and let me warn you beforehand, if mamma discovers you are ‘sweet’ on the governess, it will prove most disastrous to the poor girl’s prospects, for she will post her off without any ceremony.”
“Don’t be disturbed, sister mine. We men, I admit, have an eye for the beautiful, be it in princess or maid. I suppose I may admire Miss Douglas from a distance, as one would admire a picture, with no thought of possessing it. By the way, to change the subject, what is father going to do with the horses while we are away?”
“Send them up to the farm, I think.”
“When do they go?”
“Monday morning, I think.”
“Let us go out to the stable, then, and take a farewell look at them,” proposed Wilbur, cunningly.