"
"How do you know?" I retorted, for I was somewhat taken with the
actresses, and thought to avenge them by bringing her down a peg or
two. "Have you seen so much of London fine ladies?"
"No, poor me!" she said sorrowfully, without a bit of anger, so that I
was softened in a trice. "But the ladies of New York, even, are no
such tawdry make-believes as this.--Heaven knows, I would give ten
years of life for a sight of the fine world of London!"
She was looking so divine at that moment, that I could not but
whisper:
"You would see nothing finer there than yourself."
"Do you think so?" she quickly asked, flashing her eyes upon me in a
strange way that called for a serious answer.
"'Tis the God's truth," I said, earnestly.
For a moment she was silent; then she whispered:
"What a silly whimsy of my father, his hatred of England! Does he
imagine none of us is really ever to see the world?--That reminds me,
don't forget the _Town and Country Magazine_ to-morrow."
I had once come upon a copy of that publication, which reflected the
high life of England, perhaps too much on its scandalous side; and had
shown it to Margaret. Immediately she had got me to subscribe for it,
and to pass each number clandestinely to her. I, delighted to do her a
favour, and to have a secret with her, complied joyously; and obtained
for her as many novels and plays as I could, as well.
Little I fancied what bee I thus helped to keep buzzing in her pretty
head, which she now carried with all the alternate imperiousness and
graciousness of confident and proven beauty.
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