“Is General Glover’s house standing, too?” asked Nora, in a tone of mock-seriousness.
“Certainly,” replied Amy. “I ought to have pointed it out to you. Well, there may be a chance by-and-by.”
“There,” said Brenda, hardly waiting until Amy had finished. “It’s just come to me. I knew that there was something romantic that I had read about Marblehead. ‘Agnes Surriage,’—she’s much more romantic than any of the people you ’ve been talking about,” and she laid her hand playfully first on Julia’s arm, and then on Nora’s.
“You ’re so down on novels that I don’t suppose that either of you has read ‘Agnes Surriage.’”
“Oh, we know all about her, don’t worry about that,” rejoined Nora.
“Yes, I dare say you ’ve read some scrap about her in a history; but that ’s very different from the novel. That’s one of the most interesting books I ever read.”
“More interesting than ‘The Countess’ books?” asked Julia, mischievously.
“Oh, well, of course not quite,” responded Brenda, in the same spirit, while Nora chanted expressively,—
“’Tis like some poet’s pictured trance
His idle rhymes recite,—
This old New England-born romance
Of Agnes and the knight.’
“I could recite any amount more, but we have n’t time now.”
“There’s no doubt that you can recite poetry very well, Nora,” said Brenda, “and I’m glad that you liked Agnes.”
