"I thought you could not hear," she unwisely answers, trembling.
"God bless my soul, child! The dead would have heard the noise you were making," he rejoins, snappishly.
Having at length mastered the fact that the "State of the Funds" comes under the head of "Money Market and City Intelligence," Esther gives the desired information. Then follows a leader:
"The position of American politics is at this moment peculiarly perplexing and anomalous; so perplexing that even those English observers who, like ourselves, have given a careful and constant attention to the course of the Transatlantic movement since the first appearance of Secession, can hardly pretend clearly to understand——"
"Pretend clearly to what? For God's sake don't gabble so!"
"Can—hardly—pretend—clearly—to—understand—the—full—meaning—of—the—situation,—and—must—feel—that—it—would—be——"
"Is there no medium, may I ask, between gabbling and drawling?"
"And must feel that it would be rash to express a confident opinion thereupon."
Esther now proceeds for a considerable period unchecked—gradually and unconsciously relapsing into the brisk gallop so dear to youth when engaged upon a subject that does not interest it. Suddenly a deep slumberous breath, drawn close to her ear, makes her aware that her hearer has lapsed into sleep.
"I have read him to sleep," she says to herself, with a sort of triumphant feeling at her own prowess, taking furtive glances at the wrinkled profile, sunk, in perfect imbecility of slumber, on his breast.