And she dropped the vegetables all over the path as the "gentleman" came towards us.
I smiled—for, in spite of his transformation, I, at least, had no difficulty in recognising John Halifax.
He had on new clothes—let me give the credit due to that wonderful civiliser, the tailor—clothes neat, decent, and plain, such as any 'prentice lad might wear. They fitted well his figure, which had increased both in height, compactness, and grace. Round his neck was a coarse but white shirt frill; and over it fell, carefully arranged, the bright curls of his bonny hair. Easily might Jael or any one else have "mistaken" him, as she cuttingly said, for a young gentleman.
She looked very indignant, though, when she found out the aforesaid "mistake."
"What may be thy business here?" she said, roughly.
"Abel Fletcher sent me on a message."
"Out with it then—don't be stopping with Phineas here. Thee bean't company for him, and his father don't choose it."
"Jael!" I cried, indignantly. John never spoke, but his cheek burnt furiously.
I took his hand, and told him how glad I was to see him—but, for a minute, I doubt if he heard me.
"Abel Fletcher sent me here," he repeated, in a well-controlled voice, "that I might go out with Phineas; if HE objects to my company, it's easy to say so."