‘May I have a word with thee?’ he asked hesitatingly.
‘To-morrow, Geometrus, won’t it keep till then?’ she said sweetly.
‘No, Mercia, I must know my fate to-night, I cannot wait another day. My mind is in such a state of perplexity, that to dream of getting sleep is a folly: I come therefore to sue thee for a good night’s rest, and to be made happy for all time;’ saying which he took a seat in front of her.
‘And how can I make thee comfortable, Geometrus?’ laughed Mercia gaily. ‘Better take a nerve-soothing tabloid instead of supper, I’ll warrant that will give thy mind more rest than anything that I can tell thee.’
‘Perhaps it might,’ answered he gloomily.
‘All the same, I would prefer a hearing if thou wilt grant the favour.’
‘Certainly,’ she answered with an assumed airiness of manner, for she guessed she was about to go through a bad quarter of an hour, ‘now be reasonable, and I will give this matter my best attention,’ she added.
‘I know I am trespassing upon thy time at an awkward moment,’ he went on to say with a certain bitterness in his voice, ‘but for all that we will have it out now. What is the meaning of this fortune-telling fellow hanging round thee? What does he want dangling after thee?’
‘That is my business,’ answered Mercia, suddenly freezing in her manner and turning quite haughty, ‘I was not aware that I was answerable to thee in the choice of my friends.’
At this reproof he reddened, and stammered out—