Kit and Kitty: A Story of West MiddlesexBlackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
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Kit and Kitty: A Story of West Middlesex
Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
Middlesex (England) -- Fiction
“More honest at least, and no fee to pay,” he answered rather testily,
for he hated all humbug and compliments. “What have you been at, young
man? Is it my advice, or my aid, you want?”
“A little of both; or a lot of one, and a little of the other. I
have made the acquaintance of a sweet young lady, the gentlest,
and loveliest, and most graceful, and modest, and elegant, and
accomplished, and lofty-minded, and noble-hearted, and—and—”
“Angelic, angelic is the word, Kit—don’t begrudge it; it saves such a
lot of the others.”
“Yes, angelic,” I replied with firmness; “and even that is not half
good enough. You know nothing of such matters, Uncle Corny.”
“Then what is the use of my advice? You had better go to Tabby
Tapscott.”
This threw me out a little; but I would not be brow-beaten.
“If you have no wish to hear any more about her, and compare her to
an old creature like Tabby, all I can say is that I am sorry for your
taste, very sorry for your taste, Uncle Corny.”
“Well, well, go on, Kit. Let us have it all, while we are about it.
Rasp the baker told me something. He has brought down a girl from
London who can make short bread and maids of honour. No wonder you fell
in love with her.”
“You may try to provoke me, but you shall not succeed; because you
know no better. What will you say when I tell you the young lady is the
niece of Miss Coldpepper of Coldpepper Manor?”
I looked at Uncle Corny with a glance of triumph; and then stood up, to
breathe again, after my own audacity. But instead of being terrified,
he took it very coolly.
“Well, a cat may look at a king,” said he, pursuing his pipe with his
usual discretion; “and I suppose you have only looked at her; though
somebody said you pulled her out of our watercress brook.”
“Sir, I have had two delightful talks with her; and I mean to have
another to-morrow. Not that I have any hope—of course, I am well aware—”
“That you are unworthy to worship her shoe-string, and lie down for her
peg-heels to tread on. If she likes you, I don’t see why you shouldn’t
have her. By-and-by, I mean, when you get a little wiser. But has the
girl got any money?”
“I hope not; I hope not, from the bottom of my heart. It would be yet
another obstacle. She is as high above me, as the heaven is above the
earth, without—without even a penny in her pockets.”
“Flies all the higher, because her pockets are so light.” He spoke with
a jocosity, which appeared to me most vulgar. “Don’t look as if you
longed to knock me over, Kit. By the way, I heard that you had floored
Sam Henderson. If so, you deserve the best maid that ever looked into
a looking-glass. What do you want me to do, my lad? I know a little of
those people.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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