Large tears started from her eyes, and three or four followed
each other down her cheeks. All this said, plainer than words, that,
though a fond brother might be momentarily deceived, she herself
foresaw the end. I bowed my head to the pillow, stifled the groans
that oppressed me, and kissed the tears from her cheeks. To put an end
to these distressing scenes, I determined to be more business-like in
future, and suppress all feeling, as much as possible.
"The Lord High Admiral," I resumed, "is a species of Turk, on board
ship, as honest Moses Marble will tell you, when you see him,
Grace. But, now for Lucy and her letters--I dare say the last are
filled with tender secrets, touching such persons as Andrew Drewett,
and others of her admirers, which render it improper to show any of
them to me?"
Grace looked at me, with earnestness, as if to ascertain whether I was
really as unconcerned as I affected to be. Then she seemed to muse,
picking the cotton of the spotless counterpane on which she was lying,
like one at a loss what to say or think.
"I see how it is," I resumed, forcing a smile; "the hint has been
indiscreet. A rough son of Neptune is not the proper confidant for the
secrets of Miss Lucy Hardinge. Perhaps you are right; fidelity to
each other being indispensable in your sex.
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