Had he looked up, he would have seen a decidedly
mischievous look in the face of Morgianna, which certainly did not
indicate that she was seriously affected. After a few moments, without
looking up, the old man with a sigh continued:
"Ah, my little maid, if you could only have listened a bit to the noble
Ohioan;--if it could have been him instead of Matson, love and
patriotism could have gone hand in hand. The night we went to the cliff,
I thought you did like him; but it was not to be. 'Tis dreadful!
dreadful! why did God make woman so? Poor Fernando; there was good love
going a-begging and getting nothing for it but a frown and a hard word;
while--" he did not finish the sentence, for a pair of white arms were
put around his neck, and a voice as sweet as the rippling music of the
hillside brook said:
"Never fret yourself, father, for Morgianna loves you first of all and
best of all," and she slipped on his knee and kissed away the anxious
cloud gathering on his brow. The old man was quite overcome by this
caress, and before he could make any answer there came a heavy tread on
the piazza, a heavy knock, and a moment later a servant announced, Tris
Penrose and John Burrel. They were admitted and Penrose, who had made
another reconnoisance that afternoon in his fishing yacht, said:
"Aw, captain, I be just returned, and having somewhat of importance to
impart I came to tell you.
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