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We had been brought together legitimately enough, down at the church-decoration-gathering in the school-room: we had been regularly introduced by no less a clerical authority than little Miss Pimpernell, the vicar's sister: we had then and there associated under the safest chaperonage good heavens! would not Miss Spight's jealous green eyes, that were certain to pick out the tiniest blot in her fellow man or woman, and Lady Dasher's stately, albeit melancholy presence, satisfy you?
She would not have spoken to me at all about it, I'm confident, if she had not happened to have seen you only a moment before, and had her sensitive little heart wounded by your coldness! Why don't you tell her yourself, Frank, what you wish me to say for you?" "So I would, Miss Pimpernell, at once," I replied, "if I only had an opportunity; but I never get a chance of seeing her alone."
We'll see them by and by in their true colours; new brooms, Lady Dasher, sweep clean. Ah!" There was a world in that "ah!" "Well," said little Miss Pimpernell, in her staunch good-nature, "I think it is best to be charitable and take people as we find them. I have seen a good deal of the Clydes during the month they have been here and like them very much.
I think we shall be happy there, each in our several ways, as we are on earth, and be in the company of those we love: heaven would be miserable without that, I think." "And what do you say, Miss Pimpernell?" next asked Seraphine. "I do not say anything at all, my dear: the subject is beyond me. I leave it to One who is wiser than us all to tell me in his own good time."
It was after I had gone to the old church for the first time it was weeks before I could have the resolution to go that Miss Pimpernell gave me my darling's message; touching with a tender touch on her last moments here. She told me she had never seen or heard of so peaceful an end as hers such fervent faith, such earnest reliance on her Saviour.
Before Thursday came, however, I knew that Miss Pimpernell had kept her word in interceding for me, and that Min had quite forgiven me.
"You have been very foolish, Frank," said my kind old friend; "but I will try what I can do for you. You ought to have known that she did not care for Mr Mawley not in the way you mean; and, as for marrying him, why, the curate himself does not dream of such a thing. I cannot imagine how you could have been so blind!" "But you will help me, Miss Pimpernell, won't you?" I entreated.
"Certainly, Frank. Where are your eyes? You are as blind as a mole, my boy." "O, Miss Pimpernell!" I exclaimed, in remorse at my hasty conduct, "what shall I do to make my peace once more with her? She will never speak to me again, I know, unless you intercede for me, and tell her how the misunderstanding arose."
You should really start a school of Modern Literature, my dear fellow, and set up as a professor of the same!" "Please get my scissors, Frank," said Miss Pimpernell, trying to stop our wordy warfare. I got them; but I had my return blow at the curate all the same. "I suppose you'd be one of my first pupils, Mr Mawley," I said. "I think I could coach you up a little!"
Our laureate's description of a moving river is not so sombre as that of the American poet; and, besides, has more life and action about it." "How many different poets have sung the praises of the Thames," said Miss Pimpernell. "I suppose more poetry, good, bad, and indifferent has been written about it, than for all the other rivers of the world combined."
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