Nor does he once notice your blush as you catch her
eye when she raises her head to fling back the ringlets, and then with a
sly look at you bends a most earnest gaze upon the board, as if she were
especially interested in the disposition of the men.
You catch a little of the spirit of coquetry yourself,--(what a native
growth it is!)--and if she lift her eyes when you are gazing at her, you
very suddenly divert your look to the cat at her feet, and remark to
your friend Frank in an easy off-hand way--how still the cat is lying!
And Frank turns--thinking probably, if he thinks at all about it, that
cats are very apt to lie still when they sleep.
As for Nelly, half neglected by your thought as well as by your eye,
while mischievous-looking Madge is sitting by her, you little know as
yet what kindness, what gentleness, you are careless of. Few loves in
life, and you will learn it before life is done, can balance the lost
love of a sister.
As for your parents, in the intervals of the game you listen dreamily to
their talk with the mother of Madge,--good Mrs. Boyne. It floats over
your mind, as you rest your chin upon your clenched hand, like a strain
of old familiar music,--a household strain that seems to belong to the
habit of your ear,--a strain that will linger about it melodiously for
many years to come,--a strain that will be recalled long time hence,
when life is earnest and its cares heavy, with tears of regret and with
sighs of bitterness.
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