I came in this evening to ask your sympathy; and, here, you accuse me like this, without waiting to hear a word I have to say! Miss Pimpernell, you are unjust to me.

I will go." And I made as if to leave the room in a huff.
"Stop, Frank," said the dear little old lady, rising to her feet, and speaking to me again with something of her old cordial manner--"You speak candidly; and I've always known you to tell the truth, so I won't doubt you now.

Perhaps things have only got into a muddle after all.
Let me see if I cannot get to the bottom of it, and set them straight for you! You will not deny, I suppose, Frank, that up to a short time since you've been in the habit of paying a good deal of attention to Minnie Clyde ?" "Miss Clyde is nothing to me now!" I said grandly: I did not deceive her, however, nor turn her from her purpose.
"Wait a minute, my boy, and hear me out.

You won't deny that you have been what you call `spoony,' in your abominable slang, eh, Frank ?" she repeated, with a knowing glance from her beady black eyes.
"Pay her attention, Miss Pimpernell," I said impetuously.

"Good heavens! Why, at one time I would have died for her, and let my body be cut into little pieces, if it would only have done her any good!" "Softly, Frank," responded the old lady.