many sighs and vast
unwillingness, acceded; and she went so far as to order a very becoming
half-mourning, in which all the world declared she looked charming. "I
carry," said she, "my blessed Bluebeard in my heart,--_that_ is in the
deepest mourning for him, and when the heart grieves, there is no need
of outward show."

So she issued cards for a little quiet tea and supper, and several of
the best families in the town and neighborhood attended her
entertainment. It was followed by another and another; and at last
Captain Blackbeard was actually introduced, though, of course, he came
in plain clothes.

Dr. Sly and his nephew never could abide the captain. "They had heard
some queer stories," they said, "about proceedings in barracks. Who was
it that drank three bottles at a sitting? who had a mare that ran for
the plate? and why was it that Dolly Coddlins left the town so
suddenly?" Mr. Sly turned up the whites of his eyes as his uncle asked
these questions, and sighed for the wickedness of the world. But for all
that he was delighted, especially at the anger which the widow
manifested when the Dolly Coddlins affair was hinted at. She was
furious, and vowed she would never see the wretch again. The lawyer and
his uncle were charmed. O short-sighted lawyer and parson, do you think
Mrs. Bluebeard would have been so angry if she had not been jealous?--do
you think she would have been jealous if she had not ... had not what?
She protested that she no more cared for the captain than she did for
one of her footmen; but the next time he called she would not condescend
to say a word to him.

"My dearest Miss Anne," said the captain, as he met her in Sir Roger de
Coverley (she herself was dancing with Ensign Trippet), "what is the
matter with your lovely sister?"

"Dolly Coddlins is the matter," said Miss Anne. "Mr. Sly has told all."
And she was down the middle in a twinkling.

The captain blushed so at this monstrous insinuation, that any one could
see how incorrect it was. He made innumerable blunders in the dance, and
was all the time casting such ferocious glances at Mr. Sly (who did not
dance, but sat by the widow and ate ices), that his partner thought he
was mad, and that Mr. Sly became very uneasy.

When the dance was over, he came to pay his respects to the widow, and,
in so doing, somehow trod so violently on Mr. Sly's foot, that that
gentleman screamed with pain, and presently went home. But though he was
g