I did not know there was so much--so much good in me." "Mistress Pharisee," thought I, "you are a hypocrite." Again intending to be ironical, I said, "Shall I fetch him from the tap-room and present him to you ?" Once more my irony was lost upon the girl.

Evidently that sort of humor was not my strong point.
"No, no," she responded indignantly, "I would not speak to him for--" Again she broke her sentence abruptly, and after a little pause, short in itself but amply long for a girl like Dorothy to change her mind two score times, she continued: "It would not be for the best.

What think you, Cousin Malcolm ?" "Surely the girl has gone mad," thought I.Her voice was soft and conciliating as if to say, "I trust entirely to your mature, superior judgment." My judgment coincided emphatically with her words, and I said: "I spoke only in jest.

It certainly would not be right.

It would be all wrong if you were to meet him." "That is true," the girl responded with firmness, "but--but no real harm could come of it," she continued, laughing nervously.