“The chalk may be brittle, but I am tough. I insist upon doing every thing as well as I did it forty years ago. Mary, you ought not to speak to me like that. Eighteen, nineteen, twenty brilliants, worth twenty pounds apiece upon an average, I do believe. Four hundred pounds. That would finish our hotel.”
“Nicholas!”
“My dear, I was only in fun. Erema understands me. But who is this beautiful lady?”
“The very point,” I exclaimed, while he held it so that the pensive beauty of the face gleamed in soft relief among bright blue enamel and sparkling gems. “The very thing that I must know—that I would give my life to know—that I have fifty thousand fancies—”
“Now don't be excited, Erema, if you please. What will you give me to tell you who it is?”
“All those diamonds, which I hate the sight of, and three-quarters of my half nugget; and if that is not enough—”
“It is a thousand times too much; I will tell you for just one smile, and I know it, will be a smile of unbelief.”
“No, no; I will believe it, whoever you say,” with excitement superior to grammar, I cried; “only tell me at once—don't be so long.”
“But then you won't believe me when I do tell you,” the Major replied, in the most provoking way. “I shall tell you the last person you would ever think of, and then you will only laugh at me.”
“I won't laugh; how can I laugh in such a matter? I will believe you if you say it is—Aunt Mary.”