"Heaven forbid!" he replied, in an almost inaudible tone. "And if I could
have conceived of such a thing, I would beg your pardon. You have
brothers, Miss Hungerford?"
"Yes," I answered, nodding my head slightly, with my eyes fixed
steadfastly on the ancient instructor of our class.
"How would you feel if your brother was off, alone, in some wild country,
in need of good and gentle influences, and some young lady should treat
him as you are treating me? Please turn your head a little this way.
But, on the whole, I'm very glad I'm not your brother. Shall I tell you
Why? Miss Hungerford," the fisherman continued, after a pause, "do you
know I've always heard that auburn-haired people come, by right, into
possession of the worst tempers. Your hair is brown--dark brown, and mine
is red, almost--don't you think so?--and yet my mind is all peace within,
and hope, and joy, and
'What is the blooming tincture of the skin,
To peace of mind and purity, within?'
Miss Hungerford, it has been full two minutes, by my watch, since I
caught the last beam from your eye. Let us forget the idle wranglings of
the hour, and compose our minds to the great subjects which agitate
eternity.
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