If the King of Clubs saw a comely face, the Queen of Hearts saw what
observing girls call a "good face;" and with a womanly respect for
strength, the manliest attribute of man, she admired the broad
shoulders and six feet one of her new master. This face was not
handsome, for, true to his fatherland, the Professor had an eminent
nose, a blonde beard, and a crop of "bonny brown hair" long enough
to have been gathered into a ribbon, as in the days of Schiller and
Jean Paul; but Dolly liked it, for its strength was tempered with
gentleness; patience and courage gave it dignity, and the glance
that met her own was both keen and kind.
The silk was wound at last, the coat repaired. Dick with difficulty
concealed the growing stiffness of his shoulders, while Dolly turned
up the lamp, which bluntly hinted bedtime, and Mrs. Ward
successfully devoured six gapes behind her hand, but was detected in
the seventh by Mr. Bopp, who glanced at the clock, stopped in the
middle of a sentence, and, with a hurried "goot-night," made for the
door without the least idea whither he was going. Piloted by Dick,
he was installed in the "best chamber," where his waking dreams were
enlivened by a great fire, and his sleeping ones by an endless
succession of skeins, each rapturously concluded in the style of Sam
Weller when folding carpets with the pretty maid.
"I tell you, Dolly, it won't do, and I'm not going to have it.
Pages:
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57