"Thank you for seeing." Then
she settled softly and gradually on an ottoman, saying, "Now, Mr.
Dodd."
David looked puzzled. "What is it?" and he turned to his interpreter,
Eve.
But it was Lucy who replied: "'His messmate was crying like a child.
At sunrise poor Tom must die. Then up rose one fellow' (we have not
any idea who one fellow means in these narratives--have we, Miss
Dodd?) 'and cried, "I have it, messmates. Tom isn't dead yet."' Now,
Mr. Dodd, between that sentence and the one that is to follow all that
has happened in this room was a hideous dream. On that understanding
we have put up with it. It is now happily dispersed, and we--go ahead
again."
"I see, Eve, she thinks she would like some more of that China yarn."
"Her sentiments are not so tame. She longs for it, thirsts for it, and
must and will have it--if you will be so very obliging, Mr. Dodd." The
contrast between all this singular vivacity of Miss Fountain and the
sudden return to her native character and manner in the last sentence
struck the sister as very droll--seemed to the brother so winning,
that, scarcely master of himself, he burst out: "You shan't ask me
twice for that, or anything I can give you;" and it was with burning
cheeks and happy eyes he resumed his tale of bold adventure and skill
on one side, of numbers, danger and difficulty on the other. He told
it now like one inspired, and both the young ladies hung panting and
glowing on his words.
David and Eve went home together.
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