"I saw him take her away alone into the rose-garden," says Penelope.

"And I waited behind the holly to see how they came back. They had gone

out arm-in-arm, both laughing. They came back, walking separate, as

grave as grave could be, and looking straight away from each other in a

manner which there was no mistaking. I never was more delighted, father,

in my life! There's one woman in the world who can resist Mr. Godfrey

Ablewhite, at any rate; and, if I was a lady, I should be another!"

Here I should have protested again. But my daughter had got the

hair-brush by this time, and the whole strength of her feelings

had passed into THAT. If you are bald, you will understand how she

sacrificed me. If you are not, skip this bit, and thank God you have got

something in the way of a defence between your hair-brush and your head.

"Just on the other side of the holly," Penelope went on, "Mr. Godfrey

came to a standstill. 'You prefer,' says he, 'that I should stop here as

if nothing had happened?' Miss Rachel turned on him like lightning. 'You

have accepted my mother's invitation,' she said; 'and you are here to

meet her guests. Unless you wish to make a scandal in the house, you

will remain, of course!' She went on a few steps, and then seemed to

relent a little. 'Let us forget what has passed, Godfrey,' she said,

'and let us remain cousins still.' She gave him her hand. He kissed it,

which I should have considered taking a liberty, and then she left him.

He waited a little by himself, with his head down, and his heel grinding

a hole slowly in the gravel walk; you never saw a man look more put out

in your life. 'Awkward!' he said between his teeth, when he looked up,

and went on to the house--'very awkward!' If that was his opinion of

himself, he was quite right. Awkward enough, I'm sure. And the end of it

is, father, what I told you all along," cries Penelope, finishing me off

with a last scarification, the hottest of all. "Mr. Franklin's the man!"

I got possession of the hair-brush, and opened my lips to administer the

reproof which, you will own, my daughter's language and conduct richly

deserved.

Before I could say a word, the crash of carriage-wheels outside struck

in, and stopped me. The first of the dinner-company had come. Penelope

instantly ran off. I put on my coat, and looked in the glass. My head

was as red as a lobster; but, in other respects, I was as nicely dressed

for the ceremonies of the evening as a man need be. I got into the hall

just in time to announce the two first of the guests. You needn't feel

particularly interested about them. Only the philanthropist's father and

mother--Mr. and Mrs. Ablewhite.




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