'Love her! To be sure—we should be very wicked if we did not. Did you never hear the story of the pineapple?' said the tawny boy.
'Not I. What was it?' and the tawny boy, delighted to tell the story, with sparkling eyes sat down to relate it.
'You must know, Mr Glenmurray longed for a pineapple.'
'Mrs Glenmurray you mean,' said Mary laughing immoderately.
'I know what I say,' replied the tawny boy angrily; 'and so Miss Adeline, as she was then called, went out to buy one;—well, and so she met my poor father going to prison, and I was crying after her, and so—' Here he paused, and bursting into tears exclaimed, 'And perhaps she is crying herself now, and I must go and see for her directly.'
'Do so, my fine fellow,' cried Langley: 'you had better go home, tell your mother what has passed, and to-morrow' (accompanying him down stairs, and speaking in a low voice) 'I will either write a note of apology or call on Mrs Berrendale myself.'
The tawny boy instantly set off, running as fast as he could, telling Langley first, that if any harm had happened to his friend, both he and his mother should lie down and die. And this further proof of Adeline's merit did not tend to calm Langley's remorse for having exposed her to the various distresses which she had undergone at his chambers.
CHAPTER XX
Adeline awoke early the next morning perfectly sane, though weakened by the exertions which she had experienced the night before, and saw with surprise and alarm that she was not in her own lodging.