Sharing Her Crime Part 30

"Well, make up friends with me, and be a little like the Gipsy I used to know."

"What! like that black little squaw--that bold, ugly, half-crazy thing?

You astonish me, Mr. Rivers!"

"Yes, even so, Gipsy; you know it's all true; and I'll be the same 'regular fool, always laughing.' Then shake hands and call me Archie, as you used to."

"Well, now, I don't know," said Gipsy--"I don't _think_ I ought to forgive you."

"Don't think about it, then. Nonsense, Gipsy--you know you're to be my little wife!"

She laughed and extended her hand, though her dark cheek grew crimson.

"Well, there, I forgive you, Archie. Will that do? And now let us go into the supper-room, for I'm starving. One of my early habits I have not outgrown--and that is, a most alarming appet.i.te."

"Now I shall have her all to myself for the rest of the evening,"

thought Archie, as he stood beside her, and watched triumphantly the many savage and ferocious glances cast toward him by the gentlemen.

But Archie found himself slightly mistaken; for Gipsy, five minutes later, told him to be off--that he was an old bore, and not half as agreeable as the most stupid of her beaus. Then laughing at his mortified face, she danced and flirted unmercifully, leaving Mr. Rivers to think she was the most capricious elf that ever tormented a young lawyer.

Every day for a week after he was a constant visitor at Mr. Moore's. And every day for a week he went away as he came, without seeing Gipsy. She was always out riding, or driving, or "not at home," though he could see her plainly laughing at him at the window. The willful fairy seemed to take a malicious delight in teasing the life out of poor Archie. Evening after evening she accepted the escort of a handsome young English baronet, Sir George Stuart, the most devoted of all her lovers--leaving Archie to bear it as he pleased. And between jealousy, and rage, and mortification, and wounded pride, Mr. Rivers had a hard time of it. It _was_ too bad to see his own little Gipsy--his girlish lady-love--taken from him this way without being able to say a word against it.

So Archie fell a prey to "green and yellow melancholy," and never saw the stately young n.o.bleman without feeling a demoniacal desire to blow his brains out; and nothing prevented him from doing it but the becoming respect he had for the laws of his country.

One morning, however, for a wonder, he had the good fortune to find Gipsy alone in the parlor, looking perfectly charming in her becoming _deshabille_.

"How did you enjoy yourself last night at Mrs. Greer's ball? I saw you there with that fool of a baronet," said Archie, rather savagely.

"I enjoyed myself very well, as I always do. And I must beg of you not to speak of Sir George in that way, Mr. Rivers. I won't allow it."

"Oh, you won't!" sneered Archie. "You seem to think a great deal of him, Miss Gower."

"Why, _of course I do_! He's _so_ handsome--so perfectly gentlemanlike--so agreeable, and so--everything else. He's a real love of a man."

"Oh! the deuce take him!"

"Why, Mr. Rivers!" said Gipsy, with a very shocked expression of countenance.

"Gipsy, be serious for once. I have had something to say to you this long time, but you have been so precious careful to keep out of my sight, I've had no chance to say it. Gipsy, do you _love_ Sir George Stuart?"

"Why, Archie! _to be sure_ I do."

"Oh-h-h!" groaned Archie.

"What's the matter?--got the toothache?"

"Oh, dear, no. I have the heart-ache!"

"Sorry to hear it. Better go to Deep Dale and consult Doctor Spider about it."

"Will you come with me?"

"I've no objection. I'm going home to-morrow, and I'd just as lief have you for an escort as any one else."

"Then you are not going to be married to Sir George Stuart, Gipsy?"

exclaimed Archie, eagerly.

"Why, not just now, I think."

"Gipsy, would you marry me?"

"Well, I wouldn't mind, if n.o.body better offers."

"Oh, Gipsy! be serious; don't laugh at me now. You know you promised, when a little girl, to be my little wife. Will you, _dear_ Gipsy?"

"There--gracious me! you're treading on Sambo's toes."

A howl from an unfortunate black pug dog testified to the truth of this remark.

"Men are such awkward creatures! Poor Sambo! did he hurt you?" said Gipsy, stooping and caressing the ugly little brute.

"Oh, saints and angels! only hear her. She will drive me mad--I know she will. Here I offer her my heart, and hand, and fortune (though I don't happen to have such a thing about me), and she begins talking about Sambo's toes. That girl will be the death of me. And when I die I'll charge them to place on my tombstone, 'Died from an overdose of a coquette.'"

And Master Archie stamped up and down, and flung his coat-tails about with an utterly distracted expression of countenance.

"Why, what nonsense are you going on with there?" inquired Gipsy, pausing in her task of comforting Sambo, and looking at him in surprise.

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Archie, pausing before her, and throwing himself into a tragic att.i.tude. "Infatuated girl! the heart you now cast from you will haunt you in the dead hours of the night, when everything (but the mosquitoes) is sleeping; it will be ever before you in your English home, when you are the bride of Sir George (confound him!) Stuart; it will----"

But Master Archie could proceed no further; for Gipsy fell back in her chair, fairly screaming with laughter. Archie made a desperate effort to maintain his gravity, but the effort proved a failure, and he was forced to join Gipsy in an uproarious peal.

"Oh, dear!" said Gipsy, wiping her eyes, "I don't know when I have laughed so much."

"Yes," said Archie, in high dudgeon--"pretty thing to laugh at, too!

After breaking my heart, to begin grinning about it. Humph!"

"You looked so funny--you looked----"

Gipsy's voice was lost in another fit of laughter.

"Come, now, Gipsy, like a good girl, don't laugh any more; but tell me, _will_ you marry me--will you be my wife?"

"Why, yes, you dear old goose, you! I never intended to be anything else. You might have known that I'd be your wife, without making such a fuss about it," said Gipsy.

"And Sir George, Gipsy?"

"Oh, poor fellow, I gave him his _coup de conge_ last night, and he set out for England this morning."

"Oh, Gipsy, my dear, you're a pearl without price!" exclaimed Archie, in a rapture.