"Do you imagine, for one moment," I said, finally, "that if this
general, as he calls himself, is really what he pretends to be, a
gentleman and a friend of the President's, that he means honestly by
Phenie?"
Mrs. Angel regarded me with a fixed stare, in which I discerned wonder
at my incredulity, and indignation at the implied disparagement of her
daughter.
"Why not?" she asked, with some heat. "Phenie was a-readin' me a story,
not so long ago, about a man, a lord or somethin' like, as married a
miller's daughter. The name was 'The Secrit Marriage,' or thereabouts.
I'd like to know ef she ain't as good as a _miller's_ daughter, any
time o' day?"