But I don't care; it shall be Peterson; the rose by any
other name, &c." Then followed a rapturous description of the lady's
person, well worth omitting. "And such a jolly girl! brightens them all
up wherever she goes; and such a dancer; did the cachouka with a little
Spanish bloke Bosanquet has got hold of, and made his black bolus eyes
twinkle like midnight cigars: danced it with castanets, and smiles, and
such a what d'ye call 'em, my boy, you know; such a 'go.'"
"You mean such an 'abandon,'" groaned Alfred, turning sick at heart.
"That's the word. Twice the spirit of Duvernay, and ten times the beauty.
But just you hear her sing, that is all; Italian, French, German, English
even."
"Plaintive songs?"
"Oh, whatever they ask for. Make you laugh or make you cry to order;
never says no. Just smiles and sits down to the music-box. Only she won't
sing two running: they have to stick a duffer in between. I shall meet
her again next week; will you come? Any friend of mine is welcome. Wish
me joy, old fellow; I'm a gone coon."
This news put Alfred in a phrensy of indignation and fear.
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