“My sister!” cried Mrs. Hazleton, blushing and laughing, “my sister!—my daughter you mean.”
“Daughter! good heavens!” and here Cousin Frank gave a tragedy start—“you don’t mean to say that lady is your daughter! O, no, it cannot be—the resemblance is certainly striking—the same expressive eyes, the same noble brow, the full red lip, and luxuriant hair the same—but your daughter—it cannot be!”
Mrs. Hazleton, however, was obliged to own the “soft impeachment,” while she mentally wished she had not visited Saratoga, or that she had allowed some other of the sex to avenge the sisterhood on Mrs. Hazleton, for here indeed was a prize which might else have been hers!
——
CHAPTER VIII.
UNMASKING!
A few mornings after the party, both Wallace and Francis had a long and confidential interview with Mr. Hazleton, which resulted in the penning of a letter by the former to Mrs. Churchill, not, however, without the consent of the blushing Alice. Mr. Hazleton then went in search of his wife, whom he found absorbed in reflections which, could he have read her heart’s frivolous page, he would have found not at all flattering to himself.
“Ah, my dear Anna, I have news for you! Who would have thought young Wallace so much in love!”
“Ha! why what is it, Mr. Hazleton?” demanded his lady, eagerly.
“Why that he has this morning proposed.”