"Nay, but tell me the caitiff's name, and let me be myself your
knight, fair mistress, to redress your wrongs."
"Nay, 'tis yourself, Sir. Did you not promise you would come and hear
me play my piano, when it came from Boston, and I have it a week
already?"
"And I did not know it. Yes, now I bethink myself, Mrs. Sedgwick spoke
thereof, but this convention has left me not a moment. But damsels are
not political; no doubt you have heard nothing of the convention."
"Oh, yes; 'tis that all the poor want to be rich, and to hang all the
lawyers. I've heard. 'Tis a fine scheme."
"No doubt the piano is most excellent in sound."
"It goes middling well, but already I weary me of my bargain."
"Are you then in trade, Miss Desire?"
"A little. Papa said if I would not tease him to let me go to New York
this winter, he would have me a piano. I know not what came over me
that I consented. I shall go into a decline ere spring. The ugly dress
and the cowlike faces of the people, make me sick at heart, and give
me bad dreams, and the horses neigh in better English than the farmers
talk. Alack, 'tis a dreary place for a damsel! But, no doubt, I have
interrupted some weighty discussion.
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