Great Britain -- Social conditions -- 19th century -- Fiction
When he was gone the tears came into Susan's eyes, but she was bitterly
indignant with him for making a scene about her, which a really modest
girl hates. On her reaching the parlor Mr. Meadows was gone, too, and
that incensed her still more against William. “Mr. Meadows is affronted,
no doubt,” said she, “and of course he would not come here to be talked
of; he would not like that any more than I. A man that comes here to us
out of pure good nature and nothing else.”
The next market-day the deep Meadows did not come. Susan missed him and
his talk. She had few pleasures, and this was one of them. But the next
after he came as usual, and Susan did not conceal her satisfaction. She
was too shy and he too wise to allude to William's interference. They
both ignored the poor fellow and his honest, clumsy attempt.
William, discomfited but not convinced, determined to keep his eye upon
them both. “I swore it and I'll do it,” said this honest fellow. “But I
can't face her tongue; it goes through me like a pitchfork; but as for
him”--and he clinched his fist most significantly; then he revolved
one or two plans in his head, and rejected them each in turn. At last
a thought struck him. “Mr. Levi! he 'twas that put me on my guard. I'll
tell him.” Accordingly he recounted the whole affair and his failure to
Mr. Levi. The old man smiled. “You are no match for either of these. You
have given the maiden offense, just offense.”
“Just offence! Mr. Levi. Now don't ye say so; why, how?”
“By your unskillfulness, my son.”
“It is all very well for you to say that, sir, but I can tell you women
are kittle folk--manage them who can? I don't know what to do, I'm
sure.”
“Stay at home and till the land,” replied Isaac, somewhat dryly. “I will
go to Grassmere Farm.”
CHAPTER IX.
“You going to leave us, Mr. Eden, and going to live in a jail? Oh!
Mr. Eden, I can't bear to think of it. You to be cooped up there among
thieves and rogues, and perhaps murderers?”
“They have the more need of me.”
“And you, who love the air of heaven so; why, sir, I see you take off
your very hat at times to enjoy it as you are walking along; you would
be choked in a prison. Besides, sir, it is only little parsons that go
there.”
“What are little parsons?”
“Those that are not clever enough or good enough to be bishops and
vicars, and so forth; not such ones as you.”
“How odd! This is exactly what the Devil whispered in my ear when the
question was first raised, but I did not expect to find you on his
side.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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