“Hush! be calm, David, for Heaven’s sake.  I am only waiting to catch her eye, and then we’ll bid them good-evening.”

“Very well, I’ll wait”; and David fixed his eyes sadly and doggedly on the ground.  “I won’t look at her if I can help it,” said he, resolutely, but very sadly, and turned his head away.

“Now, David,” whispered Eve.

David rose mechanically and moved with his sister toward the other group.  Miss Fountain turned at their approach.  Somewhat to David’s surprise, Eve retreated as quickly as she had advanced.

“We are to stay.”

“What for?”

“She made me a signal.”

“Not that I saw,” said David, incredulously.

“What! didn’t you see her give me a look?”

“Yes, I did.  But what has that to do with it?”

“That look was as much as to say, Please stay a little longer; I have something to say to you.”

“Good Heavens!”

“I think it is about a bonnet, David.  I asked her to put me in the way of getting one made like hers.  She does wear heavenly bonnets.”

“Ay.  I did well to listen to you, Eve; you see I can’t even read her face, much less her heart.  I saw her look up, but that was all.  How is a poor fellow to make out such craft as these, that can signal one another a whole page with a flash of the eye?  Ah!”

“There, David, he is going.  Was I right?”

Mr. Talboys was, in fact, taking leave of Miss Fountain.  The old gentleman convoyed his friend.  As the door closed on them Miss Fountain’s face seemed to catch fire.  Her sweet complacency gave way to a half-joyous, half-irritated small energy.  She came gliding swiftly, though not hurriedly, up to Eve.  “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.