insignificant features acquired a mean and disagreeable air.
"By gracious!" he said, after surveying the colonel with a knowing grin. "At the opera, in the best seats, dressed like the lilies of the field—oh, you old rascal!"
He wagged his head at the colonel with a look of wicked knowledge that he was extremely fond of assuming.
"What do you mean?" said Letitia, twisting round on her chair so that she could see him. "What makes you call him a rascal?"
"Oh, old rogue! old rogue!" repeated Tod, as though he had secret and masonic intelligence of serious misdeeds in the colonel's past. "And that 's his daughter? Ain't she a peach!"
John Gault moved uneasily and looked back into the shadows of the box. Letitia, feeling uncomfortable, said hurriedly:
"Yes, indeed. She's prettier than anybody here, I think."
"Except you, Tishy," said Tod, but, it must be admitted, in an absent tone. He leaned farther forward, his eyes on the girl in the seat below, the smile on his face changing from one of whimsical malice to the slow, pleased grin of affected admiration.
"Well, she can draw my salary! She can have the key of my trunk!"
