“And entangle me yourself, at last,—to weave a web and detain me for your own amusement, I trust!”
“Nay, Frank!—pray excuse me, Mr. Pennant; I did not mean—do you really wish that I may entangle you in any web I may have the skill to weave?”
“Well, my dear Miss Laverty,” replied Pennant, “three weeks have glided away very delightfully in your meshes, and I am free to confess the silken bondage pleases me. I love a flirtation, where no heart can be broken! I like to tilt against breasts of adamant, and shiver the spears of repartee against the solid barrier!”
“And judge you, I have a heart of adamant, Mr. Pennant?”
“I have been told so, Miss Laverty.”
“And pray, by whom?”
“My old friend and class-fellow, Harry Stanton.”
“Henry Stanton!”
“Yes, you remember him? the son of one of our Lancaster county farmers, who has made such a sensation the past winter, as a member of your Pennsylvania Legislature, at Harrisburg.”
“Oh, yes! Cabbages and cream cheeses, I remember!”