Part 64 (2/2)
”I've got a bit of private news that I don't think you've heard,” said Richling. And the Creole rejoined promptly:--
”Well, I _thought_ I saw something on yo' thoughts--if you'll excuse my tautology. Tha.s.s a ve'y diffycult to p'event sometime'. But, Mistoo Itchlin, I trus' 'tis not you 'ave allowed somebody to swin'le you?--confiding them too indiscweetly, in fact?” He took a pretty att.i.tude, his eyes reposing in Richling's.
Richling laughed outright.
”No, nothing of that kind. No, I”--
”Well, I'm ve'y glad,” interrupted Narcisse.
”Oh, no, 'tisn't trouble at all! I've sent for Mrs. Richling. We're going to resume housekeeping.”
Narcisse gave a glad start, took his hat off, pa.s.sed it to his left hand, extended his right, bowed from the middle with princely grace, and, with joy breaking all over his face, said:--
”Mistoo Itchlin, in fact,--shake!”
They shook.
”Yesseh--an' many 'appy 'eturn! I dunno if you kin billieve that, Mistoo Itchlin; but I was juz about to 'ead that in yo' physio'nomie! Yesseh.
But, Mistoo Itchlin, when shall the happy o'casion take effect?”
”Pretty soon. Not as soon as I thought, for I got a despatch yesterday, saying her mother is very ill, and of course I telegraphed her to stay till her mother is at least convalescent. But I think that will be soon.
Her mother has had these attacks before. I have good hopes that before long Mrs. Richling will actually be here.”
Richling began to move away down the crowded market-house, but Narcisse said:--
”Tha.s.s yo' di'ection? 'Tis the same, mine. We may accompany togetheh--if you'll allow yo' 'umble suvvant?”
”Come along! You do me honor!” Richling laid his hand on Narcisse's shoulder and they went at a gait quickened by the happy husband's elation. Narcisse was very proud of the touch, and, as they began to traverse the vegetable market, took the most populous arcade.
”Mistoo Itchlin,” he began again, ”I muz congwatu_late_ you! You know I always admiah yo' lady to excess. But appopo of that news, I might infawm you some intelligens consunning myseff.”
”Good!” exclaimed Richling. ”For it's good news, isn't it?”
”Yesseh,--as you may say,--yes. Faw in fact, Mistoo Itchlin, I 'ave a.s.s Dr. Seveeah to haugment me.”
”Hurrah!” cried Richling. He coughed and laughed and moved aside to a pillar and coughed, until people looked at him, and lifted his eyes, tired but smiling, and, paying his compliments to the paroxysm in one or two ill-wishes, wiped his eyes at last, and said:--
”And the Doctor augmented you?”
”Well, no, I can't say that--not p'ecisely.”
”Why, what did he do?”
”Well, he 'efuse' me, in fact.”
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