Part 61 (2/2)
”I did not venture to advise him. There was so much to be said on both sides.” Then he went off to Raby with the note; but, as he went, he heard Grace say, in a low voice, ”Ah, you never thought of me.”
Little's note ran thus:
”SIR,--I thank you for your proposal; and as to the first part of it, I quite agree, and should be glad to see my mother and you friends again.
But, as to my way of life, I have chosen my path, and mean to stick to it. I hope soon to be a master, instead of a workman, and I shall try and behave like a gentleman, so that you may not have to blush for me.
Should blush for myself if I were to give up industry and independence, and take to waiting for dead men's shoes; that is a baser occupation than any trade in Hillsborough, I think. This is not as politely written as I could wish; but I am a blunt fellow, and I hope you will excuse it. I am not ungrateful to you for shooting those vermin, nor for your offer, though I can not accept it. Yours respectfully,
”HENRY LITTLE.”
Raby read this, and turned white with rage.
He locked the letter up along with poor Mrs. Little's letters, and merely said, ”I have only one request to make. Never mention the name of Little to me again.”
Dr. Amboyne went home very thoughtful.
That same day Mr. Carden wrote from London to his daughter informing her he should be at Hillsborough next day to dinner. She got the letter next morning, and showed it to Mr. Raby. He ordered his carriage after breakfast for Hillsborough.
This was a blow to Grace. She had been hoping all this time a fair opportunity might occur for saying something to young Little.
She longed to write to him, and set his heart and her own at rest. But a great shyness and timidity paralyzed her, and she gave up the idea of writing, and had hitherto been hoping they might meet, and she might reinstate herself by some one cunning word. And now the end of it all was, that she was driven away from Raby Hall without doing any thing but wish, and sigh, and resolve, and give up her resolutions with a blush.
The carriage pa.s.sed the farm on its way to Hillsborough. This was Grace's last chance.
Little was standing at the porch.
A thrill of delight traversed Grace's bosom.
It was followed, however, by a keen pang. Jael Dence sat beside him, sewing; and Grace saw, in a moment, she was sewing complacently. It was more than Grace could bear. She pulled the check-string, and the carriage stopped.
CHAPTER XXI.
Henry Little, at this moment, was in very low spirits. His forge was in the yard, and a faithful body-guard at his service; but his right arm was in a sling, and so he was brought to a stand-still; and Coventry was with Grace at the house; and he, like her, was tortured with jealousies; and neither knew what the other suffered.
But everything vanished in a flood of joy when the carriage stopped and that enchanting face looked out at him, covered with blushes, that told him he could not be indifferent to her.
”Oh, Mr. Little, are you better?”
”I'm all right. But, you see, I can't work.”
”Ah, poor arm. But why should you work? Why not accept Mr. Raby's offer?
How proud you are!”
”Should you have thought any better of me if I had?”
<script>