BLUE VEIL.
118
THE STORY OF A
tinued the gentleman , looking at my face, which, I dare say, was red enough after my run.
" Oh! not so very far," I answered, politely, and holding out my hand for my veil.
"I am afraid there is not much left of this frail, little thing," he said, without giving it to me. "Pug's teeth are very sharp."
"It was really not worth the trouble of chasing him for it; " but I thought every moment I should catch him."
"Pug runs fast. Little nuisance!"
"I won't trouble you any longer." And again I held out my hand for the veil; and again he showed no disposition to give it to me.
"You'll never be able to wear it. How tired you must be! Pray rest yourself, before you resume your walk."
"No, thanks; you are very kind. If you will please give me" I really must insist upon your resting. Sit here a moment till I bring you a glass of water. "
I tried to refuse, but it was of no use. This eccentric person had pulled a chair up, and had very politely put me into it. I was provoked enough; but there seemed nothing to be done but wait patiently till I was allowed to depart with my veil in peace, or pieces. I should have liked to have run away, but I was positively ashamed to go, now, without the morsel of gauze which had so foolishly brought me there. Presently my host returned with a glass of iced claret and water, which he gave me.
"And now Pug must be punished," said he. "Come here, sir!"
"Oh, no! please!" I interposed, hastily, "don't punish him."
Well, since you beg for him, I'll let it pass, this time."
So Pug was forgiven, and he showed his satisfaction by turning over on his side with a deep sigh, stretching out his little legs and going fast asleep.
As soon as I could I arose to go.
"I am sure I am very sorry to have made so much trouble for such a trifling thing," I said, civilly, and looking suggestively at the veil which my host still held in his hand.
But he deliberately folded it up with great neatness and put it into his pocket.
"I shall have to keep this as a trophy," he said. "Pug is a little thief, I confess, but still I consider it fairly my own."
The cool impudence of the thing took away my breath. But I perceived it would be entirely useless to object, so submitted, but rather sulkily. I went down the steps with all the dignity I could muster, making a very stiff bow for adieu. The wide, straw hat was flourished in return; and I went on my way.
After all it was an adventure! But I concluded it would be best not to mention it at home, for I knew I should get well scolded by my aunt, and well teazed by the other members of the family.
Redwood received me with enthusiastic accounts of his croquet-party. For ten minutes I listened," red ball, green ball; another fellowbooby! Such a pretty girl."
“What did you say, Redwood ? A pretty girl ! Who is a booby? What a pity!"
"No, nonsense! But there is no use telling you anything about it—you are in one of your moods."
"I am not; but you rattle at such a rate. Go on, and tell me about your pretty girl."
I received a description of an angelic creature, who wore a tarpaulin hat, and had the "littlest foot!" After which Redwood obligingly retailed various small compliments he had heard paid me. "You see, Tony, everybody thinks you are a jolly, nice girl- and so you are."
(My name is Antoinette, and I regret to say that my cousin Redwood has abbreviated it to Tony).
"There is hardly a girl in Newport you couldn't cut out, if you only chose to try. " "Merci du compliment. But as I don't choose to try, there is no danger of a defeat. " "There's Philip Enderdale. He's awfully in love with you, for he told me so himself; and he has the nobbiest dog-cart on the Avenue. But you never will drive with any of the fellows. "
"The only fellow' I will drive with is my cousin Redwood."
"You are all right to me, Tony, I'll say that for you. What shall we do with ourselves this afternoon?"
"I'll drive you in the phaeton, if you like; and as it is three o'clock now, let us have our luncheon and be off."
We found my aunt in the dining- room . She gave a deprecating glance at Redwood , who was certainly making an awful racket, whistling the Hilda waltz out of all time and tune.
"My dear boy, a little less noise, if you please. Antoinette, will you try and be home early, so as to give you ample time to dress? We have dinner-company today."
"Yes, aunt," I replied, meekly, but with a sigh - for dinner parties were my especial detestation.
"We have your uncle's old friend, Gen.
