CHAPTER XXXVIII
We left Andy in what may be called a delicate situation, and though Andy's perceptions of the refined were not very acute, he himself began to wonder how he should get out of the dilemma into which circumstances had thrown him; and even to his dull comprehension various terminations to his adventure suggested themselves, till he became quite confused in the chaos which his own thoughts created. One good idea, however, Andy contrived to lay hold of out of the bundle which perplexed him; he felt that to gain time would be an advantage, and if evil must come of his adventure, the longer he could keep it off the better; so he kept up his affectation of timidity, and put in his sobs and lamentations, like so many commas and colons, as it were, to prevent Bridget from arriving at her climax of going to bed.
Bridget insisted bed was the finest thing in the world for a young woman in distress of mind.
Andy protested he never could get a wink of sleep when his mind was uneasy. Bridget promised the most sisterly tenderness.
Andy answered by a lament for his mother.
“Come to bed, I tell you,” said Bridget.
“Are the sheets aired?” sobbed Andy.
“What!” exclaimed Bridget, in amazement.
“If you are not sure of the sheets bein' aired,” said Andy, “I'd be afeard of catchin' cowld.”
“Sheets, indeed!” said Bridget; “'faith, it's a dainty lady you are, if you can't sleep without sheets.”