CHAPTER III.
Rebecca Is in Presence of the Enemy A VERY stout, puffy man, in buckskins and Hessian boots, with several immense neckcloths that rose almost to his nose, with a red striped waistcoat and an apple green coat with steel buttons almost as large as crown pieces (it was the morning costume of a dandy or blood of those days) was reading the paper by the fire when the two girls entered, and bounced off his arm-chair, and blushed excessively, and hid his entire face almost in his neckcloths at this apparition.
"It's only your sister, Joseph," said Amelia, laughing and shaking the two fingers which he held out.

"I've come home FOR GOOD, you know; and this is my friend, Miss Sharp, whom you have heard me mention." "No, never, upon my word," said the head under the neckcloth, shaking very much--"that is, yes--what abominably cold weather, Miss"-- and herewith he fell to poking the fire with all his might, although it was in the middle of June.
"He's very handsome," whispered Rebecca to Amelia, rather loud.
"Do you think so ?" said the latter.

"I'll tell him." "Darling! not for worlds," said Miss Sharp, starting back as timid as a fawn.

She had previously made a respectful virgin-like curtsey to the gentleman, and her modest eyes gazed so perseveringly on the carpet that it was a wonder how she should have found an opportunity to see him.
"Thank you for the beautiful shawls, brother," said Amelia to the fire poker.

"Are they not beautiful, Rebecca ?" "O heavenly!" said Miss Sharp, and her eyes went from the carpet straight to the chandelier.
Joseph still continued a huge clattering at the poker and tongs, puffing and blowing the while, and turning as red as his yellow face would allow him.