It could have been written with more propriety in prose." And she added,
in a malicious aside, loud enough to reach the ears of the fond father:
"Now his vanity's pleased with this nonsense, there will be no end to
his admiration of Juliet's verses."
"Dorothy, don't be envious of that of which you are incapable."
"Me envious! Of whom, pray? A whining, half-grown chit, who, if she have
anything worthy of commendation about her, first received it from me.
Envious, indeed! Captain Whitmore, I am astonished at your impudence!"
What answer the Captain would have given to this was very doubtful, for
his brow clouded up with the disrespectful manner in which Aunt Dorothy
spoke of his child, had not that child herself appeared, and all the
sunshine of the father's heart burst forth at her presence.
"Dear papa, what are you about?" she cried, flinging her arms about the
old veteran's neck, and trying, at the same moment, to twitch the paper
out of his hand.
"Avast heavin'! my girl. The old commodore is not to be robbed so easily
of his prize."
"Indeed, you must give the portfolio to me!" said Juliet, her eyes full
of tears at finding her secret discovered.
"Indeed, indeed, I shall do no such thing, you saucy little minx! So,
sit still whilst the father reads."
"But that--that is not worth reading."
"I dare say you are right, Miss Juliet," said the old maid,
sarcastically.
Pages:
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159