“Not in the least—it all came out as naturally as possible. She asked
for some of her own books to read, and when they were brought to her, I
found that she had selected works in all four of these languages. I was
quite ashamed of my own ignorance, I can assure you; which amounts to no
more than a smattering of French, in the face of her Spanish, Italian
and German!”
“Poh! I shouldn’t have minded it, in the least,” Michael very coolly
replied, his mouth being half-full of beefsteak. “The girls lead us in
such things, of course. No man dreams of keeping up with a young lady
who has got into the living languages. Miss Wilmeter might teach us
both, and laugh at our ignorance, in the bargain.”
“Sarah! Ay, she is a good enough girl, in her _way_—but no more to be
compared——”
Jack Wilmeter stopped short, for Millington dropped his knife with not a
little clatter, on his plate, and was gazing at his friend in a sort of
fierce astonishment.
“You don’t dream of comparing your sister to this unknown and suspected
stranger!” at length Michael got out, speaking very much like one whose
head has been held under water until his breath was nearly exhausted.
“You ought to recollect, John, that virtue should never be brought
unnecessarily in contact with vice.”
“Mike, and do you, too, believe in the guilt of Mary Monson?”
“I believe that she is committed under a verdict given by an inquest,
and think it best to suspend my opinion as to the main fact, in waiting
for further evidence. Remember, Jack, how often your uncle has told us
that, after all, good witnesses were the gist of the law. Let us wait
and see what a trial may bring forth.”
Young Wilmeter covered his face with his hands, bowed his head to the
table, and ate not another morsel that morning. His good sense
admonished him of the prudence of the advice just given; while feelings,
impetuous, and excited almost to fierceness, impelled him to go forth
and war on all who denied the innocence of the accused. To own the
truth, John Wilmeter was fast becoming entangled in the meshes of love.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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