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They used to ask me, who "M" was; and, when I got savage, and told them to mind their own business, they would "chaff" me, inquiring whether "the unknown fair" was obdurately "cruel," or no! Little Miss Pimpernell tried to cheer me up telling me to "hope on, hope ever;" and, to stick steadily to my work, for, that Min would be certain to come back soon, when all would be well.
My good fairy must undoubtedly have been hovering about the vicarage premises that day; and I strongly suspect my good fairy in this instance, as was the case also in many other circumstances of my life, being none other than my very unfairylike old friend, little Miss Pimpernell, the vicar's kind-hearted sister. Did I not look forward to Wednesday evening?
Tell him good-bye for me, and to be good not for my sake only, but, for God's!" These were the last words she uttered. She died, Miss Pimpernell said, with a soft sigh of contentment and a smile of seraphic happiness on her face; and, the face of the dead girl she added sobbing looked like the face of an angel in its purity and innocence, and with the stamp of heaven on its lifeless clay.
Miss Pimpernell said "yes," and Min, when I saw her, looked it; but, my heart frequently said "no" and, I was miserable in consequence! It is a truism, that, when one loves truly, one is never satisfied.
Good-night, Frank! Mind you go to that tutor to-morrow," he said, handing me the address he had hastily scribbled down; and, he went out on some errand of mercy, leaving Miss Pimpernell and myself to resume our tete-a-tete conversation, which he had so satisfactorily interrupted. "Well, Frank!" said she, as his coat tails disappeared out of the doorway, "will not that do for you?"
"From the explorations at Nineveh and at Pompeii, we have already learnt that the ancients well knew of what we in our pride long ascribed to modern inquiry and research." Miss Pimpernell here calling upon her brother and Monsieur Parole for some more of their concerted music, they sat down to a sonata of Beethoven.
There's no good in your sitting down and whining at your present defeat, like the naughty child that cried for the moon! You must be up and doing. A man's business is to overcome obstacles; it is only us, women, who are allowed to cry at home!" "But, Mrs Clyde dislikes me," I said. "What of that?" retorted Miss Pimpernell; "her dislike may be overcome."
"And I, too, dear Miss Pimpernell," said Min, in her soft, low voice, which had a slight tremor as she spoke, and there was a misty look in her clear grey eyes silent witnesses of the emotion that stirred her heart.
On my return home from a walk in the evening, I found a little note of invitation awaiting me, in which Miss Pimpernell requested me to come round to the vicarage precisely at eight, "dressed all in my best," like the impassioned lover of "Sally in our Alley," as she "expected a few friends."
"Have you heard the news about The Terrace yet, Frank?" asked Miss Pimpernell. "No," I said. "What is it?" "Number sixty-five is let at last!" "Indeed," said I; "how pleased old Shuffler must be, for the house has hung a long time on his hands. Who are the people that have taken it?" "A widow lady and her daughter.
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