Then she went into
details: "You spell abominable with two m's--and that's abominable; you
spell ridiculous with a k--and that's ridicklous. So after this don't you
presume to speak to me, for I shall never speak to you again."
"Very well, then," said Percy. "I, too, will be silent forever."
"Oh, I dare say," said Julia; "a chatter-box like you."
"Even chatter-boxes are silent in the grave," suggested Percy; "and if we
are to part like this forever to-day, to-morrow I shall be no more."
"Well, you could not be much less," said Julia, but with a certain
shame-faced change of tone that perhaps, if Percy had been more
experienced, might have given him a ray of hope.
"Well," said he, "I know one lady that would not treat these presents
with quite so much contempt."
"Oh, I have seen her," said Julia, spitefully. "She has been setting
her cap at you for some time; it's Miss Susan Beckley--a fine
conquest--great, fat, red-haired thing."
"Auburn."
"Yes, all-burn, scarlet, carrots, _flamme d'enfer_. Well, go and give her
my leavings, yourself and your ancestral--paste.
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