So entranced was Cattledon that she never moved hand or foot, simply stood still and gazed. They, absorbed in their business, did not see us. The parson seemed to be trying the strength of the iron, shaking it with his hand; Emma was poking and patting at the mattress.
“Good Heavens!” faintly ejaculated Cattledon; and she looked as if about to faint.
“The washhand-stands are round this way, and the chests of drawers also,” was called out at this juncture from some unknown region, and I knew the voice to be Mrs. Topcroft’s. “You had better come if you have fixed upon the beds. The double stands look extremely convenient.”
Cattledon turned back the way she had come, and stalked along, her head in the air. Straight down the stairs went she, without vouchsafing a word to the wondering attendant.
“But, madam, is there not anything I can show you?” he inquired, arresting her.
“No, young man, not anything. I made a mistake in coming here.”
The young man looked at the other young man down in the shop, and tapped his finger on his forehead suggestively. They thought her crazy.
“Barefaced effrontery!” I heard her ejaculate to herself: and I knew she did not allude to the young men. But never a word to me spoke she.
Peering about, on this side the street and on that, she espied another furniture shop, and went into it. Here she found the chair she wanted; paid for it, and gave directions for it to be sent to Chelmsford.
That what we had witnessed could have but one meaning—the speedy marriage of Mr. Lake with Emma Topcroft—Cattledon looked upon as a dead certainty. Had an astrologer who foretells the future come forth to read the story differently, Cattledon would have turned a deaf ear. Mrs. Jonas happened to be sitting with Miss Deveen when we arrived home; and Cattledon, in the fulness of her outraged heart, let out what she had seen. She had felt so sure of Mr. Lake!