"Perhaps not. But he would never urge me to encourage a suitor whom I could not love. I am very young, Mr. Godfrey, too young to enter into any serious engagements. I esteem you and your cousin, but if you persist in talking to me in this strain, it will destroy our friendship. If you really feel any regard for me, never wound my feelings by speaking to me on this subject again."
As Juliet ran forward to meet her father, she felt like a bird escaped out of the snare of the fowler, while Godfrey, humbled and mortified, muttered to himself, "The deuce take these very clever girls; they lecture us like parsons, and talk like books."
"Why, Julee, love, how you have painted your cheeks," cried the delighted old man, catching her in his arms, and imprinting a very audible kiss upon her white forehead. "What has Mr. Godfrey been saying to you?"
"Miss Juliet will not listen to anything that I can say to her," said Godfrey gloomily.
"Pshaw!" returned the old man. "A lover must look out for squalls; his bark is seldom destined to sail upon a smooth sea. If she will not go ahead against wind and tide, you must try her upon another tack."
He turned to Juliet, and found her in tears.
CHAPTER X.
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Would that the dewy turf were spread O'er this frail form and aching head; That this torn heart and tortured brain Would never wake to grief again.—S.M. |