I at once anticipated that she had failed.

Her first words informed me that I was wrong.
"I've done it," she said.

"I am to write to Engelman to-night; and I have the widow's permission to tell him that she regrets her hasty decision.
Her own words, mind, when I asked her how I should put it!" "So there is a true heart under that splendid silk dress of hers ?" I said.
My aunt walked up and down the room, silent and frowning--discontented with me, or discontented with herself; it was impossible to tell which.
On a sudden, she sat down by me, and hit me a smart slap on the shoulder.
"David!" she said, "I have found out something about myself which I never suspected before.

If you want to see a cold-blooded wretch, look at me!" It was so gravely said, and so perfectly absurd, that I burst out laughing.

She was far too seriously perplexed about herself to take the smallest notice of my merriment.
"Do you know," she resumed, "that I actually hesitate to write to Engelman?
David! I ought to be whipped at the cart's tail.