"I'm in a fair sweat, Miss Fancy."
"Mercy me! Shall I fetch you a glass of water?"
"Figure of speech, miss. It's like this, if you'll excuse me talking of my own affairs."
"Why, I like that. It's so—so friendly of you, Mr. Yellam."
"I'm standing betwixt the devil and the deep sea."
"Well, I never!"
He gazed so earnestly at Fancy that she wondered if she were the deep sea, and that the devil was an allusion to the late parlourmaid. Alfred continued:
"The world, miss, goes round and round for true lovers, but it don't stand still for anybody, leastways not for carriers. We must push along with the times, eh?"
He glanced at her anxiously. She was quick to perceive that he wanted counsel and much flattered thereby. She eyed him as keenly as he, just now, had eyed her. Being so frail and attenuated herself, his massive form and square head attracted her strangely. She admired his big chin and too heavy nose. And her eyes lingered with appreciation upon the bulging biceps and deltoids shewing strongly beneath his thin summer jacket. What a sad pity that her dear father had not been cast in such a mould! To his anxious question, she replied with a little bob of her head.
"My father and granfer were carriers before me. Van and horses was good enough for them. And good enough for me, too. It tears me to scrap 'em."