And so on, Milly, quite delighted, and longing to begin her course of
instruction, sat down beside me in a rapture, and hugged and kissed me so
heartily that we were very near rolling together off the stone on which we
were seated. Her boisterous delight and good-nature helped to restore me,
and both laughing heartily together, I commenced my task.
'Dear me! who's that?' I exclaimed suddenly, as looking up from my
block-book I saw the figure of a slight man in the careless morning-dress
of a gentleman, crossing the ruinous bridge in our direction, with
considerable caution, upon the precarious footing of the battlement, which
alone offered an unbroken passage.
This was a day of apparitions! Milly recognised him instantly. The
gentleman was Mr. Carysbroke. He had taken The Grange only for a year. He
lived quite to himself, and was very good to the poor, and was the only
gentleman, for ever so long, who had visited at Bartram, and oddly enough
nowhere else. But he wanted leave to cross through the grounds, and having
obtained it, had repeated his visit, partly induced, no doubt, by the
fact that Bartram boasted no hospitalities, and that there was no risk of
meeting the county folk there.
With a stout walking-stick in his hand, and a short shooting-coat, and a
wide-awake hat in much better trim than Zamiel's, he emerged from the copse
that covered the bridge, walking at a quick but easy pace.
'He'll be goin' to see old Snoddles, I guess,' said Milly, looking a little
frightened and curious; for Milly, I need not say, was a bumpkin, and stood
in awe of this gentleman's good-breeding, though she was as brave as a
lion, and would have fought the Philistines at any odds, with the jawbone
of an ass.
''Appen he won't see us,' whispered Milly, hopefully.
But he did, and raising his hat, with a cheerful smile, that showed very
white teeth, he paused.
'Charming day, Miss Ruthyn.'
I raised my head suddenly as he spoke, from habit appropriating the
address; it was so marked that he raised his hat respectfully to me, and
then continued to Milly--
'Mr. Ruthyn, I hope, quite well? but I need hardly ask, you seem so happy.
Will you kindly tell him, that I expect the book I mentioned in a day or
two, and when it comes I'll either send or bring it to him immediately?'
Milly and I were standing, by this time, but she only stared at him,
tongue-tied, her cheeks rather flushed, and her eyes very round, and to
facilitate the dialogue, as I suppose, he said again--
'He's quite well, I hope?'
Still no response from Milly, and I, provoked, though myself a little shy,
made answer--
'My uncle, Mr. Ruthyn, is very well, thank you,' and I felt that I blushed
as I spoke.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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