“I'd rayther not.” “Perhaps you would prefer to tell me in private?” “No; prefer not to tell at all.” Then the whole table opened on him, and appealed to his manly feeling, his sense of hospitality, his humanity--to gratify their curiosity. Kenealy stretched himself out from the waist downward, and delivered himself thus, with a double infusion of his drawl:-- “See yah all dem--d first.” At noon on the same day, by the interference of Mrs. Bazalgette, the British army was swelled with Kenealy, captain of horse. The whole day passed, and Lucy's retreat was not yet discovered. But more than one hunter was hemming her in. The next day, being the second after her elopement with her nurse, at eleven in the forenoon, Lucy and Mrs. Wilson sat in the little parlor working. Mrs. Wilson had seen the poultry fed, the butter churned, and the pudding safe in the pot, and her mind was at ease for a good hour to come, so she sat quiet and peaceful. Lucy, too, was at peace. Her eye was clear; and her color coming back; she was not bursting with happiness, for there was a sweet pensiveness mixed with her sweet tranquillity; but she looked every now and then smiling from her work up at Mrs. Wilson, and the dame kept looking at her with a motherly joy caused by her bare presence on that hearth. Lucy basked in these maternal glances. At last she said: “Nurse.” “My dear?” “If you had never done anything for me, still I should know you loved me.” “Should ye, now?” “Oh yes; there is the look in your eye that I used to long to see in my poor aunt's, but it never came.” “Well, Miss Lucy, I can't help it. To think it is really you setting there by my fire! I do feel like a cat with one kitten. You should check me glaring you out o' countenance like that.” “Check you? I could not bear to lose one glance of that honest tender eye. I would not exchange one for all the flatteries of the world. I am so happy here, so tranquil, under my nurse's wing.” With this declaration came a little sigh. Mrs. Wilson caught it. “Is there nothing wanting, dear?” “No.” “Well, I do keep wishing for one thing.” “What is that?” “Oh, I can't help my thoughts.” “But you can help keeping them from me, nurse.” “Well, my dear, I am like a mother; I watch every word of yours and every look; and it is my belief you deceive yourself a bit: many a young maid has done that. I do judge there is a young man that is more to you than you think for.” “Who on earth is that, nurse?” asked Lucy, coloring. “The handsome young gentleman.” “Oh, they are all handsome--all my pests.”