Oh mim! oh sir. Raly it's give
me such a turn,' cried the susceptible damsel, pressing her hand upon
her side to quell the palpitation of her heart, 'that you might knock me
down with a feather.'
The locksmith, after glancing at Miss Miggs as if he could have wished
to have a feather brought straightway, looked on with a broad stare
while Dolly hurried away, followed by that sympathising young woman:
then turning to his wife, stammered out, 'Is Dolly ill? Have I done
anything? Is it my fault?'
'Your fault!' cried Mrs V. reproachfully. 'There--you had better make
haste out.'
'What have I done?' said poor Gabriel. 'It was agreed that Mr Edward's
name was never to be mentioned, and I have not spoken of him, have I?'
Mrs Varden merely replied that she had no patience with him, and bounced
off after the other two. The unfortunate locksmith wound his sash about
him, girded on his sword, put on his cap, and walked out.
'I am not much of a dab at my exercise,' he said under his breath, 'but
I shall get into fewer scrapes at that work than at this. Every man came
into the world for something; my department seems to be to make every
woman cry without meaning it.
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