Mattie:-A Stray Volume I Part 20

"Then she waited for me, possibly," he said, a little taken aback nevertheless, "or told her mother. Well, you see, to make a long story short, Mr. Wesden, I have taken the liberty of falling in love with your daughter, as was natural and to be expected, and I have come down early this morning to tell you plainly that that's the state of my feelings, and that if you have anything to say against it or me, why you can clap on the extinguisher, and no one a bit the wiser."

Mr. Wesden was a man who never showed his surprise by anything more than an intenser stare than usual; he sat looking stolidly at Sidney Hinchford, who leaned over the counter with flushed cheeks and earnest eyes, surveying him through his gla.s.ses.

Still Mr. Wesden was surprised--in fact, very much astonished. Only a year or two ago, and the tall young man before him was a little boy fresh from school, and a source of trouble to him when he got near the tinsel drawer, and Skelt's Scenes and Characters--now he was talking of love matters.

"You're the first customer this morning, Sidney, and you've asked for a rum article," he said bluntly.

"Which you'll not refuse me, I hope, sir--which you'll give me a chance of obtaining, at all events."

"What does Harriet say?"

"I've--I've only just said a few words to her--more than I ought to have said perhaps, before I know her feelings towards me, or what your wishes were, sir."

Sidney, very humble and deferential to pater-familias, after taking the case in his own hands, like all young hypocrites who have this terrible ordeal to pa.s.s, and are doubtful of the upshot.

Mr. Wesden listened and stared--clean over Sidney's head, rather than at him. Had he not had a long experience of the stationer's ways, he would have augured ill for his prospects from the stolidity with which his news was received; but Mr. Wesden was always a grave and reserved man, and his immobile features did not alarm the young suitor.

"Well, and what's to keep her and you--_my money_?"

"Not a farthing of it, sir, by your good leave," said Sidney, proudly; "I wish to work on and wait for her. I have every hope of attaining to a good position in my office--I think I see my way clearly--I won't ask you to let her marry me till I can show you a home of my own, and a little money in the bank, sir."

"Why didn't you wait till then?" was the dry question.

"Why, because a fellow wants a hope to live on--permission from you to pay his addresses to Miss Harriet, and to ask her to give me a hope too."

"I see."

Mr. Wesden fidgeted about his top drawers, folded some papers, looked in his till, and then turned his little withered face to Sidney. The face had altered, was brighter, even wore a smile, and Sidney's heart leaped again.

"If you'd been like most young men, I should have said 'Not yet.' But you haven't crept about the bush, and you've dealt fair, and I'll promise all I can without tying the girl up too closely."

"Tying her up!"

"The home of your own hasn't turned up yet," shrewdly remarked the stationer; "and though I believe that and the money will, we may as well wait for some signs of them. And----"

"Well, well."

"Don't you be in a hurry, young man; breath don't come so fast as it did, and I'm not used to long speeches."

"Take your time, sir--I beg pardon."

"And Harriet's very young, and may see some one else to like better."

"I hope not, sir."

"And _you_ are very young, and may see some one else too."

"Oh! Mr. Wesden."

"Ah! it's shocking to think of, but these awful events do occur," said the old man, satirically; "and, besides, my old lady and I are ignorant people in one way, and mayn't suit you when you get bigger and prouder."

"Mr. Wesden, you'll not fancy that, I know."

"You'll have to think whether, when you are a great man, you'll be able to put up with the old lady and me coming to see our girl sometimes."

Sidney entered another protest--was prolific, even liberal in his invitations, which he issued on the spot.

"Then if it's not an engagement, or what I call downright keeping company just yet--say for another year at least, I shan't turn my back upon you."

"Thank you, sir--you are more than generous."

He leaned across the counter and shook hands with Mr. Wesden; the news-agent drove up in his pony-cart at the same moment, and directly afterwards had flung a heavy bundle of the "early mornings" upon the counter; the news-boy entered, and waited for orders for his first round; a little girl came in for a penny postage stamp, change for sixpence, and a piece of paper to wrap the lot in. Business was beginning in Great Suffolk Street, and Sidney Hinchford getting in the way. Sidney would have liked to add a little more, but Mr. Wesden stopped him.

"Harriet's been down this half hour," he said; "I suppose you know that."

"Indeed I did not, sir," exclaimed Sidney, with a wild glance towards the parlour.

Harriet was there, busying herself with the breakfast cloth--a domestic picture, fair and glowing. He dashed into the parlour, and Harriet, prepared for him now, listened demurely, felt her heart plunging a little, but did not rebuke him with any words similar to those of yesternight. His despairing look of that period had kept her restless all night; she could not bear to know that others were unhappy, and she fancied that she should soon learn to love him, if she did not love him already, for his manliness and frankness. So she listened, and Sidney detailed his interview with her father, and her father's wish that it should not be considered an engagement between them until at least another year had pa.s.sed.

"We are to go on just the same as if nothing had happened, but--but I wish you to look forward to the end of that year like myself, to have hope in me and my efforts, and to give me hopes of you."

"Am I worth hoping for, Sidney?" was the rejoinder; "you don't know half the foolishness of which I have been guilty--what a weak, frivolous, romantic girl I have been."

She thought of her Brighton romance, opened the book, and then shut it hastily again. It was a story he had no right to know yet, and she had not the courage to tell him just then--it belonged wholly to the past, so rake the dead leaves over it and let it rest again!

Let it rest, then; there was no engagement. Both were free to change their minds before the year was out in which the strength of their love would be put to the test. For that year nothing more than friends, she thought, or a something more than friends, and less than lovers.

The half bargain was concluded, and Sidney went on his way rejoicing.

There was rejoicing in the hearts of all in that house for a while. Mrs.

Wesden cried over her girl as though she was going away to-morrow, but talked as if it were a settled engagement, and was glad that Sidney Hinchford was to be her son-in-law some day. Mr. Hinchford and Mr.

Wesden smoked their pipes together that evening, and talked about it in short disjointed sentences, amidst which Mr. Hinchford learned that Mr.

Wesden would retire from business before the year's probation had expired, leaving Mattie, possibly, in charge. Mattie and Ann Packet in the lower regions dwelt upon the same subject, free debatable ground, which no one cared to hem round by restrictions.

Late in the evening, Mattie stole up to Harriet's bed-room, and knocked softly at the panels of the door.

"May I come in?" she asked.

"To be sure, Mattie."

"I thought that you would be sitting here, thinking of it."

"Thinking of what, Mattie?"

"Ah! you don't tell me anything now--but I can guess--and Mr. Sidney did not sit in the parlour all the evening for nothing!"

"No, Mattie; but it's not a downright engagement yet. I'm to try if I can like Sidney first."

"That's the best way--didn't I say that this would happen some day, Miss Harriet?"