The superior
girl bent her pretty brows, and said, "Eunice, what's gone of ye? Quit
that!" but, as Hamlin thought, paled slightly.
"Of course," said Hamlin, quickly, "you know--the poem everybody's
talking about. Dear me! let me see! how does it go?" The rascal knit his
brows, said, "Ah, yes," and then murmured the verse he had lately sung
quite as musically.
Short-lip was shamelessly exalted and excited. Really she could scarcely
believe it! She already heard herself relating the whole occurrence.
Here was the most beautiful young man she had ever seen--an entire
stranger--talking to them in the most beautiful and natural way,
right in the lane, and reciting poetry to her sister! It was like a
novel--only more so. She thought that Cynthia, on the other hand, looked
distressed, and--she must say it--"silly."
All of which Jack noted, and was wise. He had got all he wanted--at
present. He gathered up his reins.
"Thank you so much, and your brother, too, Miss Cynthia," he said,
without looking up.
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