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Updated: June 8, 2025
"But it's all done and over. It is not at all a settlement that will suit me, you see, Jiffin. A butter and bacon factor is so very so very what I have not been accustomed to! And then, those aprons! I never could get reconciled to them." "I'll discard the aprons altogether," cried he, in a fever. "I'll get a second shopman, and buy a little gig, and do nothing but drive you out.
"Oh how are you Jiffin?" cried Afy, loftily, pretending not to have seen him standing there. And she condescended to put the tips of her white gloves into the offered hand, as she coquetted with her handkerchief, her veil, and her ringlets. "I thought you would have shut up your shop to-day, Mr. Jiffin, and taken a holiday." "Business must be attended to," responded Mr.
She laid her head upon the table, and thought how merciful would be death when he should come. Mr. Jiffin was in his glory. Mr. Jiffin's house was the same. Both were in apple-pie order to receive Miss Afy Hallijohn, who was, in a very short period, indeed, to be converted into Mrs. Jiffin. Mr.
I was on my way to Miss Carlyle's," she continued, with the air of one who proclaims the fact of a morning call upon a duchess. "Where could my eyes have been?" exclaimed Mr. Jiffin, in an agony of regret. "In some of those precious butter-tubs, I shouldn't wonder! We have had a bad lot in, Miss Hallijohn, and I am going to return them!" "Oh," said Afy, conspicuously resenting the remark.
Jiffin, Joe Jiffin. How could I ever bear to be called Mrs. Joe Jiffin! Not but Goodness me! what do you want?" The interruption to Afy's chickens was caused by Mr. Ebenezer James. That gentleman, who had been walking with quick steps to overtake her, gave her flounces a twitch behind, to let her know somebody had come up. "How are you, Afy? I was going after you to Mrs.
"Well you see," said Afy, calling up all her impudence to say what she had made up her mind to say, "I have been considering it well over, Jiffin, and I find that to carry out the marriage will not be for my for our happiness. I intended to write to inform you of this; but I shall be spared the trouble as you have come out to me." The perspiration, cold as ice, began to pour off Mr.
Jiffin and his shopman, and his shop, and his wares, were all set out to the best advantage and very tempting they looked, as a whole, especially the spiced bacon Mr. Jiffin happening to cast his eyes to the opposite side of the street, beheld his beloved sailing by. She was got up in the fashion.
At this moment the bells of another church, not St. Jude's, broke out in a joyous peal, and the earl inclined his ear to listen. "What can they be ringing for?" he cried. They were ringing for a wedding. Afy Hallijohn, by the help of two clergymen and six bridesmaids, of which you may be sure Joyce was not one, had just been converted into Mrs. Joe Jiffin.
Afy Hallijohn was sailing up the street in its beams, finer and vainer than ever. She encountered Mr. Carlyle. "So, Afy, you are really going to be married at last?" "Jiffin fancies so, sir. I am not sure yet but what I shall change my mind. Jiffin thinks there's nobody like me. If I could eat gold and silver, he'd provide it; and he's as fond as fond can be.
Should he get her a glass of wine?" Afy declined the wine by a gesture, and sat fanning herself. Mr. Jiffin looking on from a respectful distance. Gradually she grew composed grew herself again. As she gained courage, Mr. Jiffin lost it, and he ventured upon some faint words of reproach, of him. Afy burst into a laugh. "Did I not do it well?" she exclaimed.
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