"Ah! Love was never without
The pang, the agony, the doubt."—BYRON.
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[Transcriber's Note: spelling and punctuation are eccentric. Exclamation marks and dashes are copious inside sentences. Occasional British and archaic spellings are used (ploughboys, dulness). Some words are invented or unusual ('decenter' to mean more decent; 'irrevelantly'). I have attempted to correct misprints and mistakes without changing the spirit of the original.Thanks to https://babel.hathitrust.org for the original scan and OCR.]
"Billy, Billy!" I call, eagerly, and at the top of my healthylungs; but there is no reply. "Where can that boy be?"
"Billy, Billy!" I shout again, more lustily this time, and withmy neck craned half-way down the kitchen-stair-case, but with alike result. There is a sudden movement on the upper landing, andDora, appearing above, waves her hand frantically towards me toinsure attention, while she murmurs, "Hush! Hush!" with hurriedemphasis. I look up, and see she is robed in her best Frenchmuslin, the faint blue and white of which contrasts so favorablywith her delicate skin.
"Hush! There is some one in the drawing-room," says my lovelysister, with the slightest possible show of irritation.
"Who?" I ask, in my loudest whisper, feeling somewhat interested."Not—not Mr. Carrington—surely?"
'Yes,' returns Dora, under her breath; "and really, Phyllis, Iwish you would not give yourself the habit of—-"
"What? Already!" I interrupt, with a gasp of surprise. "Well,certainly he has lost no time. Now, Dora, mind you make aconquest of him, whatever you do, as, being our landlord, he mayprove formidable."
Dora blushes—it is a common trick of hers, and she does it verysuccessfully—nods, smiles and goes on to victory. Thedrawing-room door opens and shuts; I can hear a subdued murmur ofvoices; some one laughs. It is a man's laugh, and I feel thegrowth of curiosity strong within my breast. Oh, for somecongenial soul to share my thoughts! "Where on earth is Billy?"
I am about to prosecute my search for him in person, when hesuddenly appears, coming towards me from a totally unexpecteddirection.
"What's up?" he asks, in his usual neat style.
"Oh, Billy, he is here—Mr. Carrington I mean," I exclaim,eagerly. "Dora and mamma are with him. I wonder will they ask himabout the wood?"
"He'd be sure to refuse if they did," says Billy, gloomily. "Fromall I hear, he must be a regular Tartar. Brewster says he is thehardest landlord in the county turns all the tenants out of doorsat a moment's notice, and counts every rabbit in the place. I'mcertain he is a mean beast, and I hope Dora won't ask any favorof him." I shift the conversation.
"Did you see him come? Where have you been all this time?"
"Outside. There's a grand trap at the door, and two horses.Brewster says he is awfully rich, and of course he's a screw. Ifthere's one thing I hate it's a miser."
"Oh, he is too young to be a miser," say I, in the innocence ofmy heart. "Papa says he cannot be more than eight-and-twenty. Ishe dark or fair, Billy?"
"I didn't see him, but I'm sure he's dark and squat, and probablyhe squints," says Billy, viciously. "Any one that could turn poorold Mother Haggard out of her house in the frost and snow musthave a squint."
"But he was in Italy then: perhaps he didn't know anything aboutit," I put in