Then I thought I would try a joke with her and watch how it took,
by which of itself I might fully judge of her understanding it. We had
first discovered the mistake we had dropped into, through her having
asked me to prescribe for her when she had supposed me to be a Doctor in
a medical point of view; so thinks I, "Now, if I give this book the name
of my Prescriptions, and if she catches the idea that my only
Prescriptions are for her amusement and interest,--to make her laugh in a
pleasant way, or to make her cry in a pleasant way,--it will be a
delightful proof to both of us that we have got over our difficulty." It
fell out to absolute perfection. For when she saw the book, as I had it
got up,--the printed and pressed book,--lying on her desk in her cart,
and saw the title, DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS, she looked at me for
a moment with astonishment, then fluttered the leaves, then broke out a
laughing in the charmingest way, then felt her pulse and shook her head,
then turned the pages pretending to read them most attentive, then kissed
the book to me, and put it to her bosom with both her hands. I never was
better pleased in all my life!
But let me not anticipate. (I take that expression out of a lot of
romances I bought for her. I never opened a single one of 'em--and I
have opened many--but I found the romancer saying "let me not
anticipate.
Pages:
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44