oes it matter to me whom Jack marries? I begin to think I am very mean after all; I hate myself. Positively I--"
"Sir Digby has called, Miss Keane, and desires to see you for a moment. He is in the tartan boudoir."
"Tell him, Smith, that I am sorry I cannot leave my room--that I have a headache--that--stay, Smith, stay. Say that I shall be down in a few minutes."
"Yes, Miss Gertrude."
"It is best over," she murmured to herself as Smith left.
She touched the bell, and next minute she was seated before a tall mirror, at each side of which burned a star of candles, and her maid was dressing her hair.
"Mary," she said, as she rose and smoothed out the folds of her blue silk dress, "do I look my best?"
"Oh, Miss Keane, you look 'most like a fairy--the low-bodied blue, and the pink camellia in your hair. You are so beautiful that if I were a knight I should come for you with a chariot and six, and carry you away to my castle, and have a rea
British naval action during the Napoleonic wars. A young officer, his father and friends.
Not a bad read but quite light-weight. Things always go well for the heroes, even when matters look darkest. And all due to their manifold virtues, of course. What we call 'corn' in other words. Possibly suitable for a young young-adult.