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Updated: June 11, 2025
Redbud looked gently at the young man, and replied: "I mean, she does not like any one to speak of it?" "Why?" said Verty. "Because because engaged people are so funny!" And Redbud's silver laughter followed the words. "Are they?" Verty said. "Yes, indeed." Verty nodded. "Next time I will be more thoughtful," he said; "but I think I ought to have answered honestly."
Fanny was a handsome little brunette, about Redbud's age, and full of merriment and glee perhaps sparkle would be the better word, inasmuch as this young lady always seemed to be upon the verge of laughter brim full with it, and ready to overflow, like a goblet of Bohemian glass filled with the "foaming draught of eastern France," if we may be permitted to make so unworthy a comparison.
These words had been marked by Redbud's mother, and as the child gazed upon the faded ink, and thought of the dear hand which had rested upon the page, a tender regret betrayed itself in her veiled eyes, and her lips murmured, wistfully, "Mamma."
These were received by Miss Lavinia with grave politeness; and finally the two ladies inclined their heads to each other, and the carriage drove off toward Winchester, followed by Redbud's eye.
"Fanny, you cannot understand," said the young girl, with a slight blush; "I hope, if you are my real friend, as you say, that you will talk with Verty, when he comes, and make his time pass agreeably." Redbud's head sank. Fanny gazed at her for a moment in silence, and with a puzzled expression, said: "What has happened, Reddy, between you and Verty anything?" "Oh, no." "You are blushing!
Redbud's face was calm almost cold; she repelled him even when he held out his hand, and only gave him the tips of her fingers, which, for any warmth or motion in them, might have been wood or marble. Poor Verty drew back, and colored. Redbud change toward him! no longer care for him!
The Squire declared that Redbud's cheeks were beginning to be tolerably red again; that she had been pretending sickness only and then, with a vituperative epithet addressed to Caesar, the old gentleman re-commenced reading. Redbud and Verty entered; and then the young man held out his hand. "Are you going?" said the girl. "Yes," he said, smiling, "unless you will sing me something.
Redbud's face and voice had this innocence and joy in it there was pleasure in the very sound of it; and such a delicate kind of light in the soft eyes, that as they went, the young men felt more pure, and bowed to her, as something better than themselves of higher nature.
Human nature is of derisive and touching interest, Mr. Verty," sighed the lady, "you must not expect to find Reddy an exception. She is not perfect." "Oh yes, she is!" murmured poor Verty, thinking of Redbud's dreadful change, and yet battling for her to the last with the loyal extravagance of a true lover; "she would not she could not deceive me." "I do not say she would." "But "
"Who's he?" asked Mr. Roundjacket, staring. "What!" cried Verty, "don't you know old Scowley?" "No." "She's Redbud's school-master I mean school-mistress, of course; and Mr. Jinks goes to see Miss Sallianna." Roundjacket muttered: "Really, a very extraordinary young man." Then he added, aloud "Why do you think you are in love with Redbud?"
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