“I designed ’em for each other; they were made for each other, sent into the world for each other, born for each other, Winkle,” said Mr. Ben Allen, setting down his glass with emphasis. “There’s a special destiny in the matter, my dear sir; there’s only five years’ difference between ’em, and both their birthdays are in August.”
Mr. Winkle was too anxious to hear what was to follow, to express much wonderment at this extraordinary coincidence, marvellous as it was; so Mr. Ben Allen, after a tear or two, went on to say, that, notwithstanding all his esteem and respect and veneration for his friend, Arabella had unaccountably and undutifully evinced the most determined antipathy to his person.
“And I think,” said Mr. Ben Allen, in conclusion, “I think there’s a prior attachment.”
“Have you any idea who the object of it might be?” asked Mr. Winkle, with great trepidation.
Mr. Ben Allen seized the poker, flourished it in a warlike manner above his head, inflicted a savage blow on an imaginary skull, and wound up by saying, in a very expressive manner, that he only wished he could guess; that was all.
“I’d show him what I thought of him,” said Mr. Ben Allen. And round went the poker again, more fiercely than before.
All this was, of course, very soothing to the feelings of Mr. Winkle, who remained silent for a few minutes; but at length mustered up resolution to inquire whether Miss Allen was in Kent.
“No, no,” said Mr. Allen, laying aside the poker, and looking very cunning; “I didn’t think Wardle’s exactly the place for a headstrong girl; so, as I am her natural protector and guardian, our parents being dead, I have brought her down into this part of the country, to spend a few months at an old aunt’s, in a nice dull close place. I think that will cure her, my boy. If it doesn’t, I’ll take her abroad for a little while, and see what that’ll do.”
“Oh, the aunt’s is in Bristol, is it?” faltered Mr. Winkle.
“No, no, not in Bristol,” replied Mr. Ben Allen, jerking his thumb over his right shoulder; “over that way; down there. But hush! here’s Bob. Not a word, my dear friend, not a word.”