I used to sit up for him, but that was earlier in the season, when it was pleasant to be out on deck until quite a late hour. But Pomona never objected to sitting (or getting) up late, and so we allowed this weekly duty to devolve on her.
On this particular night I was very tired and sleepy, and soon after I got into bed I dropped into a delightful slumber. But it was not long before I was awakened by the fact that—
"Sa rah did not fl inch but gras ped the heat ed i ron in her un in jur ed hand and when the ra bid an i mal a proach ed she thr ust the lur id po ker in his—"
"My conscience!" said I to Euphemia, "can't that girl be stopped?"
"You wouldn't have her sit there and do nothing, would you?" she said.
"No; but she needn't read out that way."
"She can't read any other way," said Euphemia drowsily.
"Yell af ter yell res oun ded as he wil dly spr rang—"
"I can't stand that, and I won't," said I. "Why don't she go into the kitchen?—the dining-room's no place for her."
"She must not sit there," said Euphemia. "There's a window-pane out. Can't you cover up your head?"
"I shall not be able to breathe if I do; but I suppose that's no matter," I replied.
The reading continued.
"Ha, ha! Lord Mar mont thun der ed thou too shalt suf fer all that this poor—"
I sprang out of bed.
Euphemia thought I was going for my pistol, and
36
