East Lynne [269]
then. I wonder how much Dick comes into--three or four thousand a year? And to think that I had nearly escaped this by tying myself to that ape of a Jiffin! What sharks do get in our unsuspecting paths in this world!"
On went Afy, through West Lynne, till she arrived close to Mr. Justice Hare's. Then she paced slowly. It had been a frequent walk of hers since the trial. Luck favored her to-day. As she was passing the gate, young Richard Hare came up from the direction of East Lynne. It was the first time Afy had obtained speech of him.
"Good day, Richard. Why! you were never going to pass an old friend?"
"I have so many friends," said Richard, "I can scarcely spare time for them individually."
"But you might for me. Have you forgotten old days?" continued she, bridling and flirting, and altogether showing herself off to advantage.
"No, I have not," replied Richard. "And I am not likely to do so," he pointedly added.
"Ah, I felt sure of that. My heart told me so. When you went off, that dreadful night, leaving me to anguish and suspense, I thought I should have died. I never have had, so to say, a happy moment until this, when I meet you again."
"Don't be a fool, Afy!" was Richard's gallant rejoinder, borrowing the favorite reproach of Miss Carlyle. "I was young and green once; you don't suppose I have remained so. We will drop the past, if you please. How is Mr. Jiffin?"
"Oh, the wretch!" shrieked Afy. "Is it possible that you can have fallen into the popular scandal that I have anything to say to /him/? You know I'd never demean myself to it. That's West Lynne all over! Nothing but inventions in it from week's end to week's end. A man who sells cheese! Who cuts up bacon! Well, I am surprised at you, Mr. Richard!"
"I have been thinking what luck you were in to get him," said Richard, with composure. "But it is your business not mine."
"Could /you/ bear to see me stooping to him?" returned Afy, dropping her voice to the most insinuating whisper.
"Look you, Afy. What ridiculous folly you are nursing in your head I don't trouble myself to guess, but, the sooner you get it out again the better. I was an idiot once, I don't deny it; but you cured me of that, and cured me with a vengeance. You must pardon me for intimating that from henceforth we are strangers; in the street as elsewhere. I have resumed my own standing again, which I periled when I ran after you."
Afy turned faint. "How can you speak those cruel words?" gasped she.
"You have called them forth. I was told yesterday that Afy Hallijohn, dressed up to a caricature, was looking after me again. It won't do, Afy."
"Oh-o-o-oh!" sobbed Afy, growing hysterical, "and is this to be all my recompense for the years I have spent pining after you, keeping single for your sake!"
"Recompense! Oh, if you want that, I'll get my mother to give Jiffin her custom." And with a ringing laugh, which, though it had nothing of malice in it, showed Afy that he took her reproach for what it was worth, Richard turned in at his own gate.
It was a deathblow to Afy's vanity. The worst it had ever received; and she took a few minutes to compose herself, and smooth her ruffled feathers. Then she turned and sailed back toward Mr. Jiffin's, her turban up in the skies and the plume de coq tossing to the admiration of all beholders, especially of Miss Carlyle, who had the gratification of surveying her from her window. Arrived at Mr. Jiffin's, she was taken ill exactly opposite his door, and staggered into the shop in a most exhausted state.
Round the counter flew Mr. Jiffin, leaving the shopman staring behind it. What /was/ the matter? What /could/ he do for her?
"Faint--heat of the sun--walked too fast--allowed to sit down for five minutes!" gasped Afy, in disjointed sentences.
Mr. Jiffin tenderly conducted her through the shop to his parlor. Afy cast half an eye round, saw how comfortable were its arrangements, and her symptoms of faintness increased. Gasps and hysterical sobs came forth together. Mr. Jiffin was as one upon spikes.
"She'd
On went Afy, through West Lynne, till she arrived close to Mr. Justice Hare's. Then she paced slowly. It had been a frequent walk of hers since the trial. Luck favored her to-day. As she was passing the gate, young Richard Hare came up from the direction of East Lynne. It was the first time Afy had obtained speech of him.
"Good day, Richard. Why! you were never going to pass an old friend?"
"I have so many friends," said Richard, "I can scarcely spare time for them individually."
"But you might for me. Have you forgotten old days?" continued she, bridling and flirting, and altogether showing herself off to advantage.
"No, I have not," replied Richard. "And I am not likely to do so," he pointedly added.
"Ah, I felt sure of that. My heart told me so. When you went off, that dreadful night, leaving me to anguish and suspense, I thought I should have died. I never have had, so to say, a happy moment until this, when I meet you again."
"Don't be a fool, Afy!" was Richard's gallant rejoinder, borrowing the favorite reproach of Miss Carlyle. "I was young and green once; you don't suppose I have remained so. We will drop the past, if you please. How is Mr. Jiffin?"
"Oh, the wretch!" shrieked Afy. "Is it possible that you can have fallen into the popular scandal that I have anything to say to /him/? You know I'd never demean myself to it. That's West Lynne all over! Nothing but inventions in it from week's end to week's end. A man who sells cheese! Who cuts up bacon! Well, I am surprised at you, Mr. Richard!"
"I have been thinking what luck you were in to get him," said Richard, with composure. "But it is your business not mine."
"Could /you/ bear to see me stooping to him?" returned Afy, dropping her voice to the most insinuating whisper.
"Look you, Afy. What ridiculous folly you are nursing in your head I don't trouble myself to guess, but, the sooner you get it out again the better. I was an idiot once, I don't deny it; but you cured me of that, and cured me with a vengeance. You must pardon me for intimating that from henceforth we are strangers; in the street as elsewhere. I have resumed my own standing again, which I periled when I ran after you."
Afy turned faint. "How can you speak those cruel words?" gasped she.
"You have called them forth. I was told yesterday that Afy Hallijohn, dressed up to a caricature, was looking after me again. It won't do, Afy."
"Oh-o-o-oh!" sobbed Afy, growing hysterical, "and is this to be all my recompense for the years I have spent pining after you, keeping single for your sake!"
"Recompense! Oh, if you want that, I'll get my mother to give Jiffin her custom." And with a ringing laugh, which, though it had nothing of malice in it, showed Afy that he took her reproach for what it was worth, Richard turned in at his own gate.
It was a deathblow to Afy's vanity. The worst it had ever received; and she took a few minutes to compose herself, and smooth her ruffled feathers. Then she turned and sailed back toward Mr. Jiffin's, her turban up in the skies and the plume de coq tossing to the admiration of all beholders, especially of Miss Carlyle, who had the gratification of surveying her from her window. Arrived at Mr. Jiffin's, she was taken ill exactly opposite his door, and staggered into the shop in a most exhausted state.
Round the counter flew Mr. Jiffin, leaving the shopman staring behind it. What /was/ the matter? What /could/ he do for her?
"Faint--heat of the sun--walked too fast--allowed to sit down for five minutes!" gasped Afy, in disjointed sentences.
Mr. Jiffin tenderly conducted her through the shop to his parlor. Afy cast half an eye round, saw how comfortable were its arrangements, and her symptoms of faintness increased. Gasps and hysterical sobs came forth together. Mr. Jiffin was as one upon spikes.
"She'd