I felt somehow I’d hurt you. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. But, being pushed forward by his subordinate officer, he was compelled to make a stand. On the same day, moreover, which, by a curious coincidence, was the birthday of the Chevalier de Saint George, mobs were collected together in the streets, and the health of that prince was publicly drunk under the title of James the Third; while, in many country towns, the bells were rung, and rejoicings held, as if for a reigning monarch:—the cry of the populace almost universally being, "No King George, but a Stuart!" The adherents of the Chevalier de Saint George, we have said, were lavish in promises to their proselytes. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. She was particularly charmed by his theory of friendship.
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