“Oh! oh!” cried Mr. Walsingham, holding up his hands, and all the rest cried “Oh! oh!” and held up theirs.
“I vow and protest,” cried Peggy Baker, blushing very much. “I vow and protest——”
“I said,” interrupted Nancy, “that it was the cruellest slander. You are all good-nature. Stand up, Kitty dear. Now tell us, Miss Peggy, before all these gentlemen, do those eyes squint?”
“Certainly not,” said poor Peggy, in great confusion.
“Look at them well,” continued Nancy. “Brown eyes, full and clear—eyes like an antelope. Saw any one eyes more straight!”
“Never,” said Peggy, fanning herself violently.
“Or more beautiful eyes?”
“Never,” replied Miss Peggy.
“There,” said Nancy, “I knew it. I said that from the lips of Miss Peggy Baker nothing but kind words can fall. You hear, gentlemen; women are sometimes found who can say good things of each other: and if we find the malicious person who dared report that Miss Peggy Baker said such a thing, I hope you will duck her in the horse-pond.”
Miss Peggy bowed to us with her most languishing air, and passed on. Nancy held up her hands, while the gentlemen looked at one another and laughed.