“Seen her! Seen Alicia! Seen her within this half hour! That’s impossible.—How could you see her? Where could you see her?” “I saw her in your company,” rejoined Wright, coolly.
“In my company! How could that be, without my seeing you?—You are making a jest of me.”
“Not at all; only take care that you do not make a jest of yourself. I assure you that I say nothing but truth: I’ve seen you and your Miss Barton this very morning: nay, I’ll tell you what you said to her; you told her that you could not sell Clover-hill till I came to town.”
Marvel stared, and stood in silent astonishment.
“Ay,” continued Wright, “you see by this how many things may pass before a man’s eyes and ears, when he is in love, without his seeing or hearing them. Why, man, I was in the milliner’s shop just now, standing in the corner behind the door; but you could see nothing but your charming Miss Barton.”
“I beg your pardon for being so blind,” said Marvel, laughing; “but you are too good-natured to take offence; though you don’t know what it is to be in love.”
“There you are mistaken; for I am as much in love as yourself at this instant.”
“Then I’m undone,” cried Marvel, turning as pale as death.
“Why so?” said Wright; “will you allow nobody, man, to be in love but yourself? I don’t see why I have not as good a right to fall in love as you have.”
“To be sure you have,” said Marvel, trying to recover himself; “and I can’t say but what you deal fairly by me, to tell me so honestly at once. More fool I to send for you. I might have foreseen this, blockhead as I am! but you deal fairly by me, Wright: so I cannot complain, and will not, happen what may. Let him who can win her, wear her. We start fair; for though I have had the advantage of a first acquaintance, you are much the handsomer man of the two; and that goes for a great deal with some ladies, though not perhaps with Alicia Barton.”