At last, looking up with the air of one who has taken a mighty resolve, she said, "I presume such a keen observer as yourself must have noticed that the most reserved people are, on some occasions, the most frank and direct. I am going to tell you that I feel some apology due to you, if my first impressions of your character are really incorrect. I am puzzled what to think."
"I am to suppose that your first impressions were not as favorable as those of Mrs. Black, whom I heard remark that I was an amiable youth, with an uncommonly pleasant smile."
"Just the opposite, in fact,-pardon me! To my eye, you had a mocking, ironical cast of countenance. I felt sure at once you were the sort of person I never could make a friend of, and acquaintances I leave to Flora, who wants to know every body. I thought the less I had to do with you the better."
I felt hurt, and almost insulted. I had not been mistaken, then; she had disliked me, and perhaps disliked me yet.
"It was not that I stood in fear of your satire," she continued; "I am indifferent to ridicule or censure in general; no one but a friend has power to wound me."
A flattering emphasis, truly! I felt my temper a little stirred by Miss Etty's frankness. I was sulkily silent.
"I had no claim to any forbearance, any consideration for peculiarities of any sort. I am perfectly resigned to being the theme of your wit in any circle, if you can find aught in my country-bred ways to amuse you."
Zounds! I must speak.
"My conduct to Flora must have confirmed the charming impression produced by my unlucky phiz, I imagine. But don't bear malice against me in her behalf; you must have seen that she was perfectly able to revenge herself."
Etty's light-hearted laugh rung out, and reminded me of my once baffled curiosity when it reached my ear from Norah's domain. But though this unsuppressed mirth of hers revealed the prettiest row of teeth in the world, and made the whole face decidedly beautiful, somehow or other it gave me no pleasure, but rather a feeling of depression. My joining in it was pure pretence.
Presently the brightness faded, and I found myself gazing at the cold countenance of Little Ugly again.
"No, I did not refer to Flora," said she. "As you say, she can avenge her own quarrel, and we both were quite as ready to laugh at you, as you could be to laugh at us, I assure you."
"No doubt of it," said I, with some pique.
"But what I cannot forgive you, cannot think of with any toleration, is-"
"What?" cried I, astonished. "How have I offended?"
"A man of any right feeling at all could not make game of an aged woman, his own relative, at the same time that he was receiving her hearty and affectionate hospitality."
"Neither have I done so," cried I, in a towering passion. "You do me a great wrong in accusing me of it. I would knock any man down who should treat my aunt with any disrespect. And if I have sometimes allowed Flora to do it unrebuked, you well know that she might once have pulled my hair, or cuffed my ears, and I should have thought it a becoming thing for a young lady to do. I have played the fool under your eye, and submit that you should entertain no high opinion of my wisdom. But you have no right to judge so unfavorably of my heart. If I have spoken to my aunt with boyish petulance when she vexed me, at least it was to her face, and regretted and atoned for to her satisfaction. I am incapable of deceiving her, much less of ridiculing her either behind her back or before her face. I respond to her love for me with sincere gratitude, and the sister of my grandmother shall never want any attention that an own grandson could render while I live. I shall find it hard to forgive you this accusation, Miss Etty," I said, haughtily, and shut my mouth as if I would never speak to her again.
She made no answer, but looked up into my face with one of those wondrous smiles. It went as straight to my heart as a pistol bullet could do, my high indignation proving no defence against it. I was instantly vanquished, and as I heartily shook the hand she held out to me, I was just able to refrain from pressing it to my lips, which, now I think of it, would have been a most absurd thing for me to do. I wonder what could have made me think of doing it!
After Dinner. I hear Flora's musical laugh in the mysterious boudoir, and a low, congratulatory little murmur of good humor on Etty's part. I believe she is afraid to laugh loud, lest I should hear her do it, and rush to the spot. The door is ajar; I'll storm the castle.
Flora admitted me with a shout of welcome, the instant I tapped. Etty pushed a rocking-chair toward me, but said nothing. The little room was almost lined with books. Drawings, paintings, shells, corals, and, in the sunny window, plants, met my exploring gaze, but the great basket was nowhere to be seen. It was got up for the nonce, I imagine. Etty a rogue!
"This is the pleasantest nook in the house. It is a shame you have not been let in before," said Flora, zealously. "You shall see Etty's drawings." Neither of us opened the portfolio she seized, however, but watched Etty's eyes. They were cast down with a diffident blush which gave me pain; I was indeed an intruder. She gave us the permission we waited for, however. There were many good copies of lessons: those I did not dwell upon. But the sketches, spirited though imperfect, I studied as if they had been those of an Allston. Etty was evidently in a fidget at this preference of the smallest line of original talent over the corrected performances which are like those of every body else. I drew out a full-length figure done in black chalk on brown paper. It chained Flora's wondering attention as quite new. It was a young man with his chair tipped back; his feet rested on a table, with a slipper perched on each toe. His hands were clasped upon the back of his head. The face-really, I was angry at the diabolical expression given it by eyes looking askance, and lips pressed into an arch by a contemptuous smile. It was a corner of this very brown sheet that I saw under her arm, when she vanished from the kitchen as I entered; the vociferous mirth which attracted me was at my expense. Before Flora could recognize my portrait, Little Ugly pounced upon it; it fell in a crumpled lump into the bright little wood fire, and ceased to exist.
"I had totally forgotten it," said she, with a blush which avenged my wounded self-love. Ironical pleasure at having been the subject of her pencil I could not indulge myself in expressing, as I did not care to enlighten Little Handsome. Any lurking pique was banished when Etty showed me, with a smile, the twilight view by the pond.
"Do you draw?" she asked; and Flora cried, "He makes caricatures of his friends with pen and ink; let him deny it if he can!"
I was silent.