“Hush—hush May. The public are fools, and cannot appreciate true genius—the poem is a good poem.”
“I think it has point, papa.”
“Yes, and if those stupid ignoramuses had not made such an outcry, they would have seen that it terminates most felicitously.”
“True, papa—one certainly could not wish for a happier termination.”
“But you see, May, I have particular reasons for not wishing to be known as the author—and this poor young man feeling much chafed by the treatment he has received, and which is perfectly natural you know—”
“Certainly, papa—the school-master is very sensitive. Mercy, if you only knew—”
“Well, no matter now—and feeling as I said, greatly incensed, he threatens to expose me. You can save me May—your hand will make all secure.”
“Very well, dear papa—Mr. Warren has always been kind to me in school, and I like him very well—I do papa, and so to oblige you I will do as you wish,” said the arch maiden.
Taking her hand, her father now led her up to Harry, and placed it within that of the enraptured lover. And May, dropping a little courtesy, very gravely assured him that she would endeavor to make as obedient a wife as she had a pupil.
Madam Rumor is a prying gossip. How she found out the secret was never known—but away she went gadding from house to house, whispering the school-master had obtained his charming young wife by fathering the literary bantling of the learned Mr. Lillie!