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Updated: June 8, 2025
"Ah!" said his friend, with great emphasis. "Well, well!" "Wot d'ye mean by 'well, well'?" demanded the other, with some heat. "I was on'y thinking," replied Mr. Smith, mildly. "P'r'aps it's all for the best, and I'd better 'old my tongue. True love is better than money. After all it ain't my bisness, and I shouldn't get much out of it." "Out of wot, Nat?" inquired Mr. Kybird, uneasily. Mr.
Smith made a strange noise in his throat and turned on him sharply. Mr. Kybird, still staring in surprise at his unwonted behaviour, drew back a little, and then his lips parted and his eyes grew round as he saw the cause of his friend's concern. An elderly gentleman with a neatly trimmed white beard and a yellow rose in his button-hole was just passing on the other side of the road.
To that simple act he imparted an emphasis which commanded the attention of both beholders, and, drawing over to Miss Kybird, he stood over her in an attitude at once terrifying and reproachful. "Take your choice, Amelia," he said, in a thrilling voice. "Me or 'im which is it to be?" "Here, steady, old man," cried the startled Nugent. "Go easy." "Me or 'im?" repeated Mr.
Edward Silk showed up but poorly beside those of the paying guest, and Miss Kybird had on several occasions drawn comparisons which would have rendered both gentlemen uneasy if they had known of them. Mr. Nugent carried the same easy good-fellowship with him the following week when, neatly attired in a second-hand suit from Mr.
It was a 'ard thing to do, but I've done it." "Do you mean," said Mr. Silk, recovering his voice at last, "do you mean that Amelia would marry me after all?" "Do I mean?" repeated Mr. Kybird, naturally indignant that his very plain speaking should be deemed capable of any misconstruction. "Am I speaking to a stock or a stone, Teddy?" Mr.
Kybird, who had ever a wholesome dread of falling a victim to his friend's cuteness, regarded him with some uncertainty, and reminded him of one or two pieces of information which had seriously depleted his till. "Banns up yet for the wedding?" inquired Mr. Smith, still gazing in front of him with fathomless eyes. "They'll be put up next week," said Mr. Kybird.
Kybird, desperately; "don't tell me that 'e's been and left all that money to young Teddy Silk." "Well, I won't if you don't want me to," said the accommodating Mr. Smith, "but, mind, it's a dead secret." Mr. Kybird wiped his brow, and red patches, due to excitement, lent a little variety to an otherwise commonplace face; Mrs. Kybird's dazed inquiry.
Kybird, who was troubled with asthma, was suffering untold agonies in a black satin dress which had been originally made for a much smaller woman, and had come into her husband's hands in the way of business. It got into hers in what the defrauded Mr.
Mr. Nugent shook his head. "I shall get a lodging somewhere," he said, airily. "There's a room upstairs as you might 'ave if you liked," said Mr. Kybird, slowly. "It's been let to a very respectable, clean young man for half a crown a week. Really it ought to be three shillings, but if you like to 'ave it at the old price, you can." "Done with you," said the other.
Kybird, as she stopped with her hand on her side, "I'd give her a bit o' my mind." "I never saw you look so well in anything before, ma," said her daughter. Mrs. Kybird smiled faintly and continued her pilgrimage. Jem Hardy coming up rapidly behind composed his amused features and stepped into the road to pass. "Halloa, Hardy," said Nugent. "Going home?"
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