"Don't we, Aunt Jeanette?"
"Me!" cried Miss Peyton, starting; "what do I know of such things,
child? You must ask someone else, if you wish to learn such matters."
"Ah! you would have us think you were never young! But what am I to
believe of all the tales I have heard about the handsome Miss
Jeanette Peyton?"
"Nonsense, my dear, nonsense," said the aunt, endeavoring to suppress a
smile; "it is very silly to believe all you hear."
"Nonsense, do you call it?" cried the captain, gayly. "To this hour
General Montrose toasts Miss Peyton; I heard him within the week, at Sir
Henry's table."
"Why, Henry, you are as saucy as your sister; and to break in upon your
folly, I must take you to see my new home-made manufactures, which I
will be bold enough to put in contrast with the finery of Birch."
The young people rose to follow their aunt, in perfect good humor with
each other and the world. On ascending the stairs to the place of
deposit for Miss Peyton's articles of domestic economy, she availed
herself, however, of an opportunity to inquire of her nephew, whether
General Montrose suffered as much from the gout as he had done when
she knew him.
It is a painful discovery we make, as we advance in life, that even
those we most love are not exempt from its frailties.
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