Peckover,
in her most persuasive tones. "You may think it all a whim of mine, if
you like--I dare say I'm an old fool; but I don't want you to give her
a Hair Bracelet."
"A whim of yours!!!" repeated Zack, with a look which made Mrs.
Peckover's cheeks redden with rising indignation. "What! a woman at
your time of life subject to whims! My darling Peckover, it won't do!
My mind's made up to give her the Hair Bracelet. Nothing in the world
can stop me--except, of course, Madonna's having a Hair Bracelet
already, which I know she hasn't."
"Oh! you know that, do you, you mischievous Imp? Then, for once in a
way, you just know wrong!" exclaimed Mrs. Peckover, losing her temper
altogether.
"You don't mean to say so? How very remarkable, to think of her having
a Hair Bracelet already, and of my not knowing it!--Mrs. Peckover,"
continued Zack, mimicking the tone and manner of his old clerical
enemy, the Reverend Aaron Yollop, "what I am now about to say grieves
me deeply; but I have a solemn duty to discharge, and in the
conscientious performance of that duty, I now unhesitatingly express my
conviction that the remark you have just made is--a flam."
"It isn't--Monkey!" returned Mrs. Peckover, her anger fairly boiling
over, as she nodded her head vehemently in Zack's face.
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