Chapter Sixteenth.
"Oh jealousy! thou bane of pleasing friendship,
Thou worst invader of our tender bosoms:
How does thy rancour poison all our softness,
And turn our gentle natures into bitterness!"
—Rowe.
The news was too good to keep, and Rupert could not forbear stopping at the smithy on his return and giving Gotobed a hint of how matters stood.
To say that the certainty of a decided rejection of Ransquattle's suit lifted a burden of anxiety from young Lightcap's mind, is not an over-estimate of the relief the boy's communication afforded him.
He had been moody and depressed since his visit of the morning to Ransquattle's shop, and had refused to give Rhoda Jane any satisfaction as to his intentions in regard to making one of the sleighing party of the following evening. She was therefore agreeably surprised when toward bed-time he came, in quite a merry mood, into the kitchen where she sat sewing alone, their mother having stepped out to see a neighbor, to tell her that he had decided to go.
"Well, I'm glad of it," she said, "and who are you going to take?"
He colored at the question and answered almost doggedly, "I'm going after Sarah Miller."
"Why don't you ask Mildred Keith?"
"'Cause there ain't no use; Ormsby's headed me off there."
"Yes; an' if you don't look out, with yer pokin' ways, he'll head you off altogether, and marry her afore you know it."