I am too hard upon her. She is a lady--a perfect lady--and
that is why she is above giving herself airs. No, David, she is not
the one to treat us with disrespect, if we don't forget ourselves. But
if ever you let her see that you are in love with her, you will get an
affront that will make your cheek burn and my heart smart--so I tell
you."
"Hush! I never told you I was in love with her."
"Never told me? Never told me? Who asked you to tell me? I have eyes,
if you have none."
"Eve," said David imploringly, "I don't hear of any lover that she
has. Do you?"
"No," said Eve carelessly. "But who knows? She passes half the year a
hundred miles from this, and there are young men everywhere. If she
was a milkmaid, they'd turn to look at her with such a face and figure
as that, much more a young lady with every grace and every charm. She
has more than one after her that we never see, take my word."
Eve had no sooner said this than she regretted it, for David's face
quivered, and he sighed like one trying to recover his breath after a
terrible blow.
What made this and the succeeding conversation the more trying and
peculiar was, that the presence of other persons in the room, though
at a considerable distance, compelled both brother and sister, though
anything but calm, to speak _sotto voce._ But in the history of
mankind more strange and incongruous matter has been dealt with in an
undertone, and with artificial and forced calmness.
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