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"Of course he does," cried Jen, wrathfully. "Ho! yis. It berry strong, dat smell. Too much of it kill--kill--kill!" "I know--I know! But I don't want her to marry you, doctor. Mr. Sarby is the man for my daughter. He is good-looking and clever and--".
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"Now you've done it!" cried Judith in distress. "She knows all about it, and I meant it for a surprise! Oh dear!" "True, doctor," remarked Jen, keeping his eyes fixed upon the swart face of the other, "and is that all you have to say?" "I do, too, now," she declared. "But I've been paid up for my evilmindedness by losing half my good time. I think I'll try to find her and be awfully agreeable to her. I'll feel better for it, I'm sure." And when that conflagration was lighted in me about my début, Tom did it. I was sitting peaceably in my own summer-house, dressed in the summer-before-last that Jane washes and irons every day while I am deciding how to hand out the first sip of my trousseau to the neighbours, when Tom, in a dangerous blue-striped shirt, with a tie that melted into it in tone, jumped over my fence and landed at my side. He kissed the lace ruffle on my sleeve while I reproved him severely and settled down to enjoy him. But I didn't have such a good time as I generally do with him. He was too full of another woman, and even a first cousin can be an exasperation in that condition..
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