Harry’s cheeks crimsoned as he seized her hand and said: “Indeed, Ka—a—Miss—that is, in fact, I’ve been very ill, and doubtless have changed somewhat; but the very same thought struck me in regard to yourself, you are so—so—”
Fortunately for Harry, who was gradually becoming more and more confused, to the amusement of Charley, who had closely observed the meeting of his friend and sister, Mr. Kennedy came up.
“Eh! what’s that? What did you say struck you, Harry, my lad?”
“You did, father, on his arrival,” replied Charley, with a broad grin, “and a very neat back-hander it was.”
“Nonsense, Charley,” interrupted Harry, with a laugh.—“I was just saying, sir, that Miss Kennedy is so changed that I could hardly believe it to be herself.”
“And I had just paid Mr. Somerville the same compliment, papa,” cried Kate, laughing and blushing simultaneously.
Mr. Kennedy thrust his hands into his pockets, frowned portentously as he looked from one to the other, and said slowly, “Miss Kennedy, Mr. Somerville!” then turning to his son, remarked, “That’s something new, Charley, lad; that girl is Miss Kennedy, and that youth there is Mr. Somerville!”
Charley laughed loudly at this sally, especially when the old gentleman followed it up with a series of contortions of the left cheek, meant for violent winking.
“Right, father, right; it won’t do here. We don’t know anybody but Kate and Harry in this house.”
Harry laughed in his own genuine style at this.