“Sir, I decline to hear any more of this coarse abuse!” exclaimed she, stamping her foot.
“Indulge me for one moment more, and I will endeavor as much as possible to avoid talking through my nose, and making pretensions as a hero of the Yankee army, or a down-east pink of chivalry.”
Perhaps the imperial beauty thought that these expressions, borrowed from her own elegant discourse, were not especially refined for a lady to use; it may be that they sounded coarse on a repetition, but she made no acknowledgment to that effect.
“Your silence consents: thank you. Miss Hasbrouk, you speak with chivalrous contempt of what you are pleased to term ‘Yankee tricks;’ at the same time, you were thrown into spasms of laughter by the apparent success of one of your own tricks. Now, permit me to ask whether you would equally appreciate—fifth question—a trick quite as smart as your own?”
“You have insulted me long enough, sir!” replied she, haughtily. “Now, sir—”
“Fifth question evaded. I have no more to ask.”
“Now, sir, I will hand you over to your masters,” said she, moving a step towards the door.
“Excuse me if I take the liberty to decline being handed over to my masters,” said Somers, stepping between her and the door, and now occupying a position between the lady and the discomfited major.
“Sir, what do you mean?” demanded the lady, her bosom heaving with angry emotions, as she found herself confronted by the young officer, who looked as firm and immovable as a mountain of granite.
“I mean all that I say, and much more,” answered he, with an emphasis which she could not fail to understand.