case I knew she would be quite the equal of her threat.
"Certainly I am robing and posturing for a conquest," she resumed. "To-night, I conquer papa."
"What?" cries I, aghast at her audacity. "You would never dare!"
"Bab," saye[*is this a typo in the original?] she, "I think you will discover that Miss Prue is as much a Dare as ever was Mr. Anthony. And if he once kissed a heathen, surely she may captivate a saint."
I thought her impudence was charming, but could not let it pass without remark.
"You call me heathen, Prue. 'Pon my soul, I think the kettle calls the pot!"
"Perhaps that is so," she replied, "yet you know you are a terrible barbarian. Still, to-night I conquer your papa. Why should I support the pains without the glory? If I endure the indignity of petticoats, let me have their compensations too."
Her saucy words brought me a brave idea.
"Prue," says I, "while you conquer my papa, I'll go captivate the Captain."
Even as I spoke it flashed upon me what I had to gain. Let me once reduce him to complete infatuation, as I had done on a previous occasion, then I might venture to divorce him from his duty, and prevail upon him to destroy that horrible blue paper. The Earl, my papa, would then have nought to fear from the Tower.
Therefore, like Miss Prue, I fell to trimming
