“What are you laughing at?” I asked.
“Only about him,” he replied. “I just run again him at the corner, and said about six words to him.”
“Well?”
“That’s all,” said Revitts, chuckling. “He showed me the back seams of his coat directly; but I followed him up and moved him on. I don’t think he’ll show himself much more about here, my lad.”
Revitts was right. Lister did not hang about our neighbourhood so much after that interview; but it had the effect of sending him back to annoy Miss Carr; so that, day by day, his actions formed a problem that it became very difficult to solve, and we little knew then how malignantly he was fighting against Hallett, whose love he must have suspected.
Time glided on. Mr Jabez used to come regularly to Ormond Street. The model and its progress seemed to give a fresh interest to the old man’s life, and, in addition, he took a remarkable liking to Linny. Mrs Hallett, too, showed a fancy for him, after a few tearful words of opposition to the way in which he encouraged Hallett in his folly.
“Folly, ma’am? it’s no such thing. He’ll be a great man yet, and a benefactor to his kind. Spread of knowledge, you know.”
“I don’t understand you, Mr Rowle,” said the poor woman plaintively; “but you may be right. All I know is, that it takes up a great deal of his time.”
“Couldn’t be better spent, my dear madam. Do you know what it means?”
“No,” said Mrs Hallett, “only neglect of his poor suffering mother.”