Her eyes sparkled with excitement. It was truly delightful to have a handsome gentleman like Wingfield paying her compliments, and at the same time the despairing John was not to be despised. He served as a somber background to her glowing dreams.
As the summer ripened, many stealthy meetings with Wingfield, filled with compliments and airy nothings, alluring as a mirage and as tangible as a will-o-the-wisp, kept the ambitious maiden’s heart in a turmoil of excitement. That accomplished flatterer was too skilful a navigator to run his ship upon the rocks of definite words, although keeping in full sight of the green fields of her untutored heart. His pleasurable enjoyment in balking John changed into pure malice as the weeks drifted by. Everywhere he turned, the stern watchful eyes of the carpenter were upon him, and he often found him dogging his footsteps. This unceasing shadowing irritated the cowardly Wingfield. “If he keeps up this espionage on my movements, I will rid the colony of him,” he would mutter to himself.
CHAPTER XVI
Adam Clotworthy had watched the growing drama with Laydon, Wingfield, and Anne in the title rôles, with keen interest.
“Sail in, sail in, John, and take the ship by storm. I tell you a maiden likes a man who overcomes obstacles, instead of pottering around, mooning like a calf. You leave her too much alone, and it is no telling what fancies she will get into her giddy pate.”
“I am not going to furnish food for her mirth with Wingfield,” answered John angrily, recollecting the previous attempts to see her which had been met by a drastic snubbing. “I shall guard her in every way I can, but I have made the last advances I intend to.”
“John, you are what I call a simon-pure fool.”
“Fool or no fool, I am a man.” And with that unanswerable argument Laydon walked away.
Turning over various plans in his head whereby he might help John, Adam was startled as the shadow of Wingfield fell in front of him.