“Yes, oh! yes; that is, all you said,” here she whispered, “about her. It was very wicked, but I won’t tell; not I—that I won’t. But,” she added, “I couldn’t help hearing, as I was in the shrubbery.”
“But what brought you there?” I asked.
“To get a peep at my two new cousins, of course. I have heard so much about you from poor, dear papa, and have so long expected you to come, that when she wouldn’t let me stay in the room, when you came this morning, I cried my eyes out—at least, almost—and then——”
“And then what?” asked Martin.
“Why, I came here by myself, determined to have a peep at you both, and uncle, too, if I could. But hush!” she exclaimed, placing a finger upon her lips, “I must go; I heard My Lady calling for me. She must not know that I have been here; pray don’t tell her, or I shall be punished for disobedience;” and in an instant she had flitted out of sight.
“So that is our cousin,” said Martin, when we had returned to our room. “What a pretty girl!”
“Yes,” said I; “and so amiable, that she makes up for our queer-tempered looking new aunt.”
“After all, Claud, I begin to think you are right about ‘My Lady,’ as they call her. What a shame to punish a nice girl like that for anything!” replied Martin.
And now I have told all that is worth telling of our first day in the upper town of Batavia.