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Updated: May 23, 2025
"I never was," flashed Afy. "I was the company of your betters in those days: and if there had been no betters in the case, I should have scorned you. Why! you have been a strolling player!" "And what have you been?" returned Mr. Ebenezer, a quiet tone of meaning running through his good-humored laughter. Afy's cheeks flushed scarlet, and she raised her hand with a quick, menacing gesture.
Control herself as she would, she could not quite hide her feverish interest. "Do you come from West Lynne?" "Yes. Horrid place. Mrs. Latimer took a house there soon after I went to live with her. I'd rather she'd taken it at Botany Bay." "Why do you not like it?" "Because I don't," was Afy's satisfactory answer.
Upon which Wilson grew cordial and chatty, rejoicing in the delightful recreation her tongue would enjoy that evening. Afy's account of herself, as to past proceedings, was certainly not the most satisfactory in the world; but, altogether, taken in the present, it was so vast an improvement upon Joyce's conclusions, that she had not felt so elated for many a day. When Mr.
Carlyle most devoutly wished he could tell whether the man before him was speaking the truth or falsehood. He continued, "Afy's favors I speak in no invidious sense I mean her smiles and chatter were pretty freely dispersed, for she was heedless and vain. Amidst others who got the credit for occasional basking in her rays, was a gentleman of the name of Thorn. Was it not yourself?"
"They were; 'that confounded dandy Thorn. I remember Afy's reply it was rather insolent. She said Thorn was as free to come there as anybody else, and she would not be found fault with, as though she was not fit to take care of herself." "That is nothing to the purpose. Were any others acquainted with this Thorn?" "I should imagine the elder sister, Joyce, was.
I never heard him mention as much as a brother or a sister." "And you persist in saying his name was Thorn?" "I persist in saying it because it was his name. I am positive it was his name." "Afy, shall I tell you why I want to find him; I believe it was he who murdered your father, not Richard Hare." Afy's mouth and eyes gradually opened, and her face turned hot and cold alternately.
"I was not even at the cottage at the time; I swear it to you. The man who did the deed was Thorn." "Thorn!" echoed Barbara, lifting her head. "Who is Thorn?" "I don't know who. I wish I did; I wish I could unearth him. He was a friend of Afy's." Barbara threw back her neck with a haughty gesture. "Richard!" "What?" "You forget yourself when you mention that name to me." "Well," returned Richard.
When young ladies engage themselves to be married, you can't suppose they run back from it, close upon the wedding-day?" "Oh, Miss Afy!" And the poor little man actually burst into delicious tears, as he caught hold of Afy's hand and kissed it. "A great green donkey!" thought Afy to herself, bending on him, however the sweetest smile. Rather. But Mr.
Not only myself, but the whole of West Lynne, believed you were with him; and the thought has caused me pain night and day." "What a cannibal minded set you all must be, then!" was Afy's indignant rejoinder. "What have you been doing ever since, then? Where have you been?" "Never mind, I say," repeated Afy.
What could have induced you to come?" "If you are going to be upon the high ropes, it seems I might as well have stayed away," was Afy's reply, given in the pert, but good-humored manner she had ever used to Joyce. "My hand won't damage yours. I am not poison." "You are looked upon in the neighborhood as worse than poison, Afy," returned Joyce, in a tone, not of anger but of sorrow.
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