CHAPTER LXXV.
COLONEL JEFFERY OPENS HIS EYES.
Arabella was weeping, so that for some little time she could say nothing more to Ben; and he did not, in the profundity of his imagination, very well know what to say to her, except now and then muttering the maxim of “Easy does it,” which Ben thought singularly applicable to all human affairs. But this was a state of things which could not last; and Arabella Wilmot, nerving herself sufficiently to speak in a few minutes, said to Ben in a low self-deprecatory tone—
“Oh, sir, I—I—have done something very wrong.”
“Eh?” said Ben, opening his eyes to their utmost.
“Yes,” added Arabella, “very wrong, indeed.”
“Humph!”
“You would not probably have expected it of me, Mr. Ben, would you now?”
“Well, a-hem!” said Ben. “Easy does it.”
“I am a wi
