'
'Then why do you make your 't' so short?' said Rupert; 'I must give
you a writing lesson, Miss Kitty.'
'I must give you a lesson in silence, Mr. Rupert,' said Elizabeth.
'I obey,' said Rupert, with a funny face of submission, and taking up
his paper and pencil; but in a minute or two he started up,
exclaiming, 'What are they saying about Oxford?' and walked into the
next room, intending to take part in the conversation between his
father and uncle. Mr. Woodbourne, however, who was no great admirer
of Rupert's forwardness, did not shew so much deference to his
nephew's opinion as to make him very unwilling to return to the inner
drawing-room, when Anne came to tell him that all the poems were
finished, and Elizabeth ready to read them aloud.
'So this is all that you have to shew for yourself,' said Elizabeth,
holding up a scrap of paper; 'what is all this?'
'A portrait of Miss Merton,' said Rupert; 'do not you see the poet's
eye in a fine frenzy rolling?'
'Is it?' said Elizabeth; 'I took it for Miss Squeers in the agonies
of death, as I see that is the subject of the poem--all that there is
of it, at least.
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