But the great joy of Miggs’s heart was, that she not only picked up a full account of what had happened, but had the exquisite delight of conveying it to Mr Tappertit for his jealousy and torture. For that gentleman, on account of Dolly’s indisposition, had been requested to take his supper in the workshop, and it was conveyed thither by Miss Miggs’s own fair hands.
‘Oh Simmun!’ said the young lady, ‘such goings on to-day! Oh, gracious me, Simmun!’
Mr Tappertit, who was not in the best of humours, and who disliked Miss Miggs more when she laid her hand on her heart and panted for breath than at any other time, as her deficiency of outline was most apparent under such circumstances, eyed her over in his loftiest style, and deigned to express no curiosity whatever.
‘I never heard the like, nor nobody else,’ pursued Miggs. ‘The idea of interfering with HER. What people can see in her to make it worth their while to do so, that’s the joke—he he he!’
Finding there was a lady in the case, Mr Tappertit haughtily requested his fair friend to be more explicit, and demanded to know what she meant by ‘her.’
‘Why, that Dolly,’ said Miggs, with an extremely sharp emphasis on the name. ‘But, oh upon my word and honour, young Joseph Willet is a brave one; and he do deserve her, that he do.’
‘Woman!’ said Mr Tappertit, jumping off the counter on which he was seated; ‘beware!’
‘My stars, Simmun!’ cried Miggs, in affected astonishment. ‘You frighten me to death! What’s the matter?’
‘There are strings,’ said Mr Tappertit, flourishing his bread-and-cheese knife in the air, ‘in the human heart that had better not be wibrated. That’s what’s the matter.’
‘Oh, very well—if you’re in a huff,’ cried Miggs, turning away.