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Updated: June 1, 2025
Leander had been guilty of this wish once or twice; but though he was not absolutely overflowing with tact, he did refrain from admitting the impeachment. "Well, you see," he said, in not very happy evasion, "Matilda doesn't care about this kind of thing; she's rather particular, Matilda is." "And I'm not!" said Ada. "I see; thank you, Mr. Tweddle!" "You do take one up so!" he complained.
"I say, just shave me, will you?" he said, and threw himself languidly into a chair. "Fact is, Tweddle, I've been so doosid chippy for the last two days, I daren't touch a razor." "Indeed, sir!" said Leander, with respectful sympathy. "You see," explained the youth, "I've been playing the goat the giddy goat. Know what that means?"
Leander felt a wild impulse to deny it, and declare that he was his own friend, and had come to see himself on business, for he was in no social mood just then; but he ended by admitting that he supposed he was Mr. Tweddle. "So did I. Well, I want a little private talk with you, Mr. Tweddle. I've been hanging about for some time; but though I knocked and rang, I couldn't make a soul hear."
Leander Tweddle was about thirty, of middle height, with a luxuriant head of brown hair, and carefully-trimmed whiskers that curled round towards his upper lip, where they spent themselves in a faint moustache.
If you pronounce it like I do, Matilda, it has rather a pretty sound. You try now." "Well, we won't quarrel about it, Mr. Tweddle; I'm glad it isn't my name, that's all. And now tell me all about your young lady. What's her other name, and is she very good-looking?"
What do you think, Tweddle?" The suggestion was received favourably, and Jauncy, thankful to retrieve his reputation as leader, took them towards the spot where food was to be had. Presently they saw lights twinkling through the trees, and came to a place which was clearly the focus of festivity.
"I was there a year ago last summer," he said, "and it was first-rate: open-air dancing, summer theatre, rope-walking, fireworks, and supper out under the trees. You'll enjoy yourself, Bella, right enough when you get there!" "If that isn't enough for you, Bella," cried her sister, "you must be difficult to please! I'm sure I'm quite looking forward to it; aren't you, Mr. Tweddle?"
"Not till I've heard her speak," cried Tweddle. "Tillie, don't you hear? it's me!" To his immense relief, she opened her eyes at the sound of his voice, and turned away with a feeble gesture of fear and avoidance. "You have come back!" she moaned, "and with her! Oh, keep her away!... I can't bear it all over again!... I can't!"
"Let me try." "No, no!" he said, rather irritably; "I can manage it," and he continued to fumble. At last he looked over his shoulder and said, "It's a singler succumstance, but I can't get the ring past the bend of the finger." Ada was cruel enough to burst out laughing. "It's a judgment upon you, Mr. Tweddle!" she cried. "You dared me to it!" he retorted.
"No matter what he is, nor how low he has sunken, he is my father, and as such I owe him a duty; and I must constantly remember that it is not he of whom I have bitter memories, but rum, rum! rum!!" This he told himself with firmly set lips, and a white, determined face. Tweddle Hall was reasonably full.
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