"I must consult the five respectable maiden ladies in relation to this peculiar case," said the Professor. And bidding Toney good-morning, he walked towards his boarding-house.
During the above conversation, Pate was escorting the beautiful Juliet to her abode. His attentions to this young lady were extraordinary. Every evening he was seated by her side. In the mornings they would take long and romantic walks to gather wild flowers in the forest; and in the afternoons they had many pleasant drives in his buggy; he having purchased a magnificent gray horse as a substitute for the invisible Whitey.
He soon discovered that the young lady was exceedingly sentimental, and liked to listen to conversations in which love was the prominent topic. So he adopted a euphuistic style of speech, and became a successful imitator of Sir Piercie Shafton. He would address her as his adorable perfection; would sometimes lift her fair fingers to his lips; and, occasionally, in a sort of rehearsal, would go down on his knees and show her how love ought to be made. On one occasion the Irish servant found Pate in this attitude in the parlor, and hastily retreated, believing that he was making a proposal of marriage. She told her master that Miss Juliet was seated in a rocking-chair, and that Pate was kneeling before her, and praying to her as if she was the Blessed Virgin, and that she had heard him ask Juliet if she had no heart "at all, at all." The old gentleman was wonderfully pleased, when he received this information, at the prospect of soon having so accomplished a son-in-law. Pate inserted many pretty verses, which had been written for him by a young poet, in the lady's album; and on one occasion, when he was absent from home, wrote her a number of sentimental letters, in one of which he spoke of the promise which he had made to her, and which he would never forget. On the seal, which he had used, were engraved the figures of two doves putting their bills together, as if in the act of exchanging a connubial kiss. In fact, so assiduous were his intentions, and so numerous his rehearsals of courtship, that the simple-minded girl actually believed that he had made her a promise of marriage, and that he was the man who had been predestined, from the beginning of the world, to be her wedded lord.
There was a sweet, sequestered spot near her father's mansion, where a number of trees threw a delightful shade over a bubbling fountain. Under the trees was a rustic bench; and this was a favorite resort of the fair Juliet, where she was often found by Pate sitting in the moonlight, and, usually, in a very sentimental mood. One evening, just after twilight, she not being at the house, he proceeded to the fountain, and discovered her sitting on the rustic seat. She seemed pensive, and, when he spoke to her, only answered with a deep sigh. He seated himself by her side and inquired into the cause of her melancholy; but there was no response. He took her left hand in his and lifted it to his lips. As with tender devotion he was about to imprint an impassioned kiss, she drew suddenly back, and dealt him a powerful blow, with her right fist, under the eye, which knocked him from his seat, and he fell on the ground. She then sprang to her feet, and, drawing a bludgeon from beneath her garments, commenced beating him cruelly, regardless of his cries for mercy, until, at last, he was stunned by the shower of blows which descended in rapid succession, and lay senseless on the earth.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
When Pate became conscious he was in bed, having been carried home by some laborers, who found him in a sad condition, and thought at first that he was a murdered man. A doctor sat by his side, who had bandaged his wounds and bruises, and given proper attention to an arm which had been broken. It was many weeks before he could leave his house; and when he went abroad his bosom was boiling with indignation at the treatment which he had received at the hands of the fair Juliet, who, he believed, was a fiend or a fury in disguise.
So intense was his anger at the conduct of the beautiful Amazon that he treated her with the greatest indignity, and, when he met her at church, turned his back on her with a scornful curl of his lip. He publicly accused her of an atrocious assault on his person, and said that she had first knocked him down with her fist, and had then broken his arm, and attempted to murder him with a heavy bludgeon.
The greatest enemy which a man may have is the little organ which lies in his mouth just behind his teeth. The experience of M. T. Pate unfolded this truth when, one morning, the sheriff of the county called upon him with two interesting documents. The one was a writ of summons in an action for slander, and the other a similar process in a suit for breach of promise of marriage. He had accused the fair Juliet of an assault on him with intent to murder, which accusation, if true, would subject her to a criminal prosecution. The words spoken were therefore actionable. He had also treated her with contempt; and the poet tells us that