Come! I'll give you a treat. You
shall enjoy yourself while the captain is away. We will have a long
drive by ourselves. Put on your smart bonnet, and come with me to the
hotel. I'll tell the landlady to put a nice cold dinner into a basket.
You shall have all the things you like, and I'll wait on you. When you
are an old, old woman, you will remember me kindly, won't you? You
will say: 'She wasn't a bad girl; hundreds worse than she was live and
prosper, and nobody blames them.' There! there! go and put your bonnet
on. Oh, my God, what is my heart made of! How it lives and lives, when
other girls' hearts would have died in them long ago!"
In half an hour more she and Mrs. Wragge were seated together in the
carriage. One of the horses was restive at starting. "Flog him," she
cried angrily to the driver. "What are you frightened about? Flog him!
Suppose the carriage was upset," she said, turning suddenly to her
companion; "and suppose I was thrown out and killed on the spot?
Nonsense! don't look at me in that way. I'm like your husband; I have a
dash of humor, and I'm only joking."
They were out the whole day. When they reached home again, it was after
dark.
Pages:
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814