to you, already for your kindness to my son; but his grateful affection, and your own good feelings must reward you for that."
"Nonsense!" ejaculated I.
She turned her eyes on me again, with a look of quiet, grave surprise, that had the effect of a rebuke, whether intended for such or not.
"Then you won't take the book?" I asked, more mildly than I had yet spoken.
"I will gladly take it, if you will let me pay for it."
I told her the exact price, and the cost of the carriage besides, in as calm a tone as I could command—for in fact, I was ready to weep with disappointment and vexation.
She produced her purse, and coolly counted out the money, but hesitated to put it into my hand. Attentively regarding me, in a tone of soothing softness she observed,—
"You think yourself insulted Mr. Markham—I wish I could make you understand that—that I—"