I would
study now, I thought, and take my pleasure with my dear old
friend by and by when she was at leisure. I found my books,
and had thrown myself down on the floor with one of them; when
a laugh that came from the front room laid a spell upon my
powers of study. The book fell from my hands; I sat bolt
upright, every sense resolved into that of hearing. What and
who had that been? I listened. Another sound of a word spoken,
another slight inarticulate suggestion of laughter; and I knew
with an assured knowledge that my friend Cadet Thorold, and no
other, was the gentleman in Miss Cardigan's parlour with whom
she had business. I sat up and forgot my books. The first
impulse was to go in immediately and show myself. I can hardly
tell what restrained me. I remembered that Miss Cardigan must
have business with him, and I had better not interrupt it. But
those sounds of laughter had not been very business-like,
either. Nor were they business words which came to me next
through the open door. I never thought or knew I was
listening.
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