"Oh, I am not going to be repelled by any of your ferocious sentiments," said she, good-naturedly. "I am a friend of both of you—I hope; and I won't have anything of the kind—I tell you I won't allow it—"
"I'm afraid your intervention has come too late," said he, quietly.
"Why?" she demanded.
"Oh, it isn't worth speaking about," said he. "The young gentleman went a little too far—he has got to be taught a lesson, that is all—"
"Oh, listen to him!—listen to his bloodthirstiness!" she exclaimed, in affected horror; and then she suddenly altered her tone. "Come, now, Mr. Moore, you're not seriously going to try to harm that poor boy! He is a very nice boy, as honest and simple-minded as you could wish. And such a pretty boy, too—no, no, it is quite absurd—"
"You are right there," said he. "It is quite absurd. The whole thing is absurd. But it has gone too far."
Here Miss Burgoyne was called.
"Will you leave it in my hands?" she said, leisurely rising from her chair, and tucking up her long train so that she might safely pass into the wings.
"Certainly not," said he. "You have no right to know anything about it. The quarrel was forced upon me; I had no
wish to harm your pretty boy, nor have I much now—except in trying to keep myself from being harmed. But that is all over now; and this thing has to be seen through to the end now."