Who
was he?
The next day came; and she heard her door opened softly. Brisk footsteps
tripped into the room; a lithe little figure advanced to the bed-side.
Was it a dream again? No! There he was in his own evergreen reality,
with the copious flow of language pouring smoothly from his lips; with
the lambent dash of humor twinkling in his party-colored eyes--there he
was, more audacious, more persuasive, more respectable than ever, in a
suit of glossy black, with a speckless white cravat, and a rampant shirt
frill--the unblushing, the invincible, unchangeable Wragge!
"Not a word, my dear girl!" said the captain, seating himself
comfortably at the bedside, in his old confidential way. "I am to do
all the talking; and, I think you will own, a more competent man for
the purpose could not possibly have been found. I am really
delighted--honestly delighted, if I may use such an apparently
inappropriate word--to see you again, and to see you getting well. I
have often thought of you; I have often missed you; I have often said
to myself--never mind what! Clear the stage, and drop the curtain on the
past. _Dum vivimus, vivamus!_ Pardon the pedantry of a Latin quotation,
my dear, and tell me how I look.
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