“Oh, it’s you,” she remarked, not quite so cordially as usual.
“Yes, it’s me,” cried Susan eagerly. “Oh, Lizzie, I’ve such a piece of news for you! Tom Locke has been away all the week, and they d’ say he’s jest come back wi’ two eyes—a new imitation one that looks jest the same as t’other.”
“Has he truly?” responded Lizzie, her lingering resentment forgotten, and a broad smile beaming on her face. “Why, I am glad, I am, sure. Ye’ll be willin’ to take up wi’ en now, Susan?”
“I’ll see,” responded the other, with a little toss of the head. “I can’t answer for myself altogether, but I’ll try to conquer my feelin’s. I’m jest thinkin’ o’ takin’ a stroll over the bridge yonder an’ up the lane towards Locke’s. An’ if I do happen to meet en we’ll see how things turns out, Lizzie.”
But it chanced that the meeting with Tom Locke was to take place under different circumstances than those which his sweetheart had anticipated. At that very moment the portly form of Mrs. Fripp emerged from the back door of the cottage, followed by the tall figure of a man—a man whose bearded brown face was enlivened by a pair of beautiful brown eyes. He advanced straight to Lizzie, beaming with pleasure and manly pride.
“Good day to ’ee, Lizzie,” he cried. “I’ve jest come to ax if ye’ll go for a walk wi’ me.”
“Oh, Mr. Locke, ye mane Susan, surely?” stammered the little rosy-faced damsel.
“Ah, you didn’t see that I was here,” said Susan, coming forward with a coquettish sidle and a fatuous smile.
“Nay, Susan, I seed ye very well. I was sorry to hear ye was so porely—I hope ye’re feelin’ a trifle better now. Well, Lizzie my dear, ye’ll gi’e me an answer, won’t ye? I’ll be truly pleased to take ’ee for a walk.”
The two girls looked at one another; the fiery light of animosity beginning to shine in Susan’s eyes; wonder, confusion, and a kind of doubtful pleasure perceptible in Lizzie’s.