Part 17 (2/2)

”I don't _want_ them to save me any more.”

”Well, they sha'n't _do_ it, then,” said Mrs. Willoughby, affectionately, in a somewhat maudlin tone.

”And the next time I lose my life, I don't want to be saved. I want them to let me alone, and I'll come home myself.”

”And so you shall, darling; you shall do just as you please. So, now, cheer up; don't cry;” and Mrs. Willoughby tried to wipe Minnie's eyes.

”But you're treating me just like a baby, and I don't want to be talked to so,” said Minnie, fretfully.

Mrs. Willoughby retreated with a look of despair.

”Well, then, dear, I'll do just whatever you want me to do.”

”Well, then, I want you to tell me what I am to do.”

”About what?”

”Why, about this great, big, horrid man.”

”I thought you didn't want me to talk about this any more.”

”But I _do_ want you to talk about it. You're the only person that I've got to talk to about it; n.o.body else knows how peculiarly I'm situated; and I didn't think that you'd give me up because I had fresh troubles.”

”Give you up, darling!” echoed her sister, in surprise.

”You said you wouldn't talk about it any more.”

”But I thought you didn't want me to talk about it.”

”But I _do_ want you to.”

”Very well, then; and now I want you first of all, darling, to tell me how you happened to get into such danger.”

”Well, you know,” began Minnie, who now seemed calmer--”you know we all went out for a drive. And we drove along for miles. Such a drive!

There were lazaroni, and donkeys, and caleches with as many as twenty in each, all pulled by one poor horse, and it's a great shame; and pigs--oh, _such_ pigs! Not a particle of hair on them, you know, and looking like young elephants, you know; and we saw great droves of oxen, and long lines of booths, no end; and people selling macaroni, and other people eating it right in the open street, you know--such fun!--and fishermen and fish-wives. Oh, how they _were_ screaming, and oh, _such_ a hubbub as there was! and we couldn't go on fast, and Dowdy seemed really frightened.”

”Dowdy?” repeated Mrs. Willoughby, in an interrogative tone.

”Oh, that's a name I've just invented for Lady Dalrymple. It's better than Rymple. She said so. It's Dowager shortened. She's a dowager, you know. And so, you know, I was on the front seat all the time, when all at once I saw a gentleman on horseback. He was a great big man--oh, _so_ handsome!--and he was looking at poor little me as though he would eat me up. And the moment I saw him I was frightened out of my poor little wits, for I knew he was coming to save my life.”

”You poor little puss! what put such an idea as that into your ridiculous little head?”

”Oh, I knew it--second-sight, you know. We've got Scotch blood, Kitty darling, you know. So, you know, I sat, and I saw that he was pretending not to see me, and not to be following us; but all the time he was taking good care to keep behind us, when he could easily have pa.s.sed us, and all to get a good look at poor me, you know.

”Well,” continued Minnie, drawing a long breath, ”you know I was awfully frightened; and so I sat looking at him, and I whispered all the time to myself: 'Oh, please don't!--ple-e-e-e-e-ease don't! Don't come and save my life! Ple-e-e-e-e-ease let me alone! I don't want to be saved at all.' I said this, you know, all to myself, and the more I said it the more he seemed to fix his eyes on me.”

”It was very, very rude in him, _I_ think,” said Mrs. Willoughby, with some indignation.

<script>