"Are they those eyes, Mr. Linden?" said Miss Essie coming nearer and using her own.
"What was the colour of Cupid's?"
"Blue, certainly!"
"Miss Derrick!"—said the doctor,—"let us have your opinion."
Faith gave him at least a frank view of her own, all blushing and laughing as she was, and answered readily,—"As to the colour of Cupid's eyes?—I have never seen him, sir."
The doctor was obliged to laugh himself, and the chorus became general, at something in the combination of Faith and her words. But Faith's confusion thereupon mastered her so completely, that perhaps to shield her the doctor requested silence and attention and began to read; of a lady who, he said he was certain, had borrowed of nobody—not even of Cupid.—
"'Whoe'er she be,
That not impossible she,
That shall command my heart and me.'"
"I believe she is impossible, to begin with," said Miss Essie. "You will never let any woman command you, Dr. Harrison."
"You don't know me, Miss Essie," said the doctor, with a curiously grave face, for him.
"He means—