"Be an impartial umpire, Miss Etty," said I, "and you will be on my side."
Little Ugly was obliged to confess that she had not heard a word of the matter, her thoughts being elsewhere, intently engaged.
"I must request you to excuse my inattention," she said, "and to repeat what you were saying."
"The latter request I scorn to grant," said I, "and the former we will consider about when we have heard what thoughts have been preferred to our most edifying conversation."
"You shall tell us," said Flora. "Yes, or we till go off and leave you to your meditations, here in the dark woods, with the owls and the tree-toads, whom you probably prefer for company."
Miss Etty condescended to confess she should be frightened without my manful protection.—Quite a triumph!
"I must thank you," she said, "for the novelty of an evening walk in the woods. I enjoy it, I confess, very highly. Look at those dark, mysterious vistas, and those deepening shadows blending the bank with its mirror; how different from the trite daylight truth! It took strong hold of my imagination."
"Go on. And so you were thinking—"
"I was hardly doing so much as thinking. I was seeing it to remember."
"Etty draws like an artist," said Flora, in a whisper.