The parrot opened his eyes and looked at them as though he
were striving to catch his cue.
"Of course you ought." But as he said this he smiled and there was
no offence in his voice. "I dare say you didn't guess how much I
thought of it. And then I was a bear to you. I always am a bear
when I am not pleased."
"Peas, peas, peas," said the parrot.
"I shall be a bear to that brute of a bird before long."
"What a very queer bird he is."
"He is a public nuisance,--and so is the old lady who brought him
here," This was said quite in a whisper. "It is very odd, Miss
Masters, but you are literally the only person in all Dillsborough
in regard to whom I have any genuine feeling of old friendship."
"You must remember a great many."
"But I did not know any well enough. I was too young to have seen
much of your father. But when I came back at that time you and I
were always together."
"Gedder, gedder, gedder," said the parrot.
"If that bird goes on like that I'll speak to the guard," said Mr.
Morton with affected anger. "Polly mustn't talk," said the old lady
waking up.
"Tok, tok, tok, tok," screamed the parrot. Then the old lady threw
a shawl over him and again went to sleep.
"If I behaved badly I beg your pardon," said Mary.
"That's just what I wanted to say to you, Miss Masters,--only a man
never can do those things as well as a lady.
Pages:
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280