"It's only an excuse, of course. You will have him here singing, day and night, mark my words! However, I must allow that he has a sweet tenor, and I shall often drop in for an hour," with which dire threat, Mrs. Creery took her departure, and hastened away to spread the last piece of news, viz., "that it was all quite settled between Helen Denis and Mr. Quentin; he had sent her over his piano, and written such a sweet note!"
To Miss Caggett this intelligence was a painful shock; she never believed half of what Mrs. Creery said, but the arrival of the piano had been witnessed. What wrath and anguish filled her mind, as she thought of swains she had snubbed, and chances she had thrown away, for that agreeable shadow, that fickle, faithless, heartless, handsome Jim Quentin! But Lizzie was not easily suppressed; in some respects she was as dauntless as the Bruce!
She put on her best hat, and went up and listened to some solos and duets that very same afternoon; and Mr. Quentin, whose patience was almost threadbare, remarked to her very significantly,—
"I like duets, Miss Caggett, as well as any one, but I don't much care for trios; they are never so harmonious. I'm sure you agree with me."
Lizzie turned pale. She understood, though Helen did not—indeed, she was exceedingly glad of Miss Caggett's society on these occasions; it took the too personal edge off her visitor's remarks, and acted as a wet blanket to his compliments. She (Helen) was not quite sure whether he was in jest or earnest at times, but she sincerely hoped that it was the former. Strange as it may appear, she was utterly indifferent to the almost invincible Jim Quentin. Why, she could not have told. She knew that he was handsome, agreeable, and showed a flattering penchant for her society. More than this, he had informed her, hundreds of times (indirectly), that he admired her beyond words. And yet, and yet——
Miss Caggett was firmly resolved to punish her recreant lover, and to humble him in the eyes of his new Dulcinea; so she smiled, and showed all her teeth, and put her head on one side, and tried to look playful, and said,—
"Mr. Quentin, you are a naughty man! What will Mr. Baines say when he hears you have sent his new Collard and Collard travelling about the settlement?"
Mr. Baines was the gentleman for whom Mr. Quentin was acting.
"He say?" colouring. "What is it to him?"
"Only his property," laughing rather boisterously.