rapid flow of utterance, and saw with anxiety the bright smile with which she looked into his face from time to time, for she was walking a little in advance for the purpose, (as I judged) of being seen as well as heard.
If her conversation was light and trivial, it was amusing, and she was never at a loss for something to say, or for suitable words to express it in. There was nothing pert or flippant in her manner now, as when she walked with Mr. Hatfield; there was only a gentle, playful kind of vivacity which I thought must be peculiarly pleasing to a man of Mr. Weston's disposition and temperament.
When he was gone she began to laugh, and muttered to herself.
"I thought I could do it!"
"Do what?" I asked.
"Fix that man."
"What in the world do you mean?"
"I mean that he will go home and dream of me. I have shot him through the heart!"
"How do you know?"
"By many infallible proofs: more especially the look he gave me when he went away. It was not an impudent look—I exonerate him