“Did you ever suppose anything else?” asked the witch coldly. I think it must have been Johnnie’s transport of passion which made the floor thrill, as I felt under my chair. I heard a furious muttered exclamation—then a long pause. The passion changed, and a great sob came out of Johnnie’s boyish heart.
“You don’t mean what you say—Laura, Laura!” groaned the poor lad. I could have—— well, to be sure I am only a vindictive woman, as women are. I don’t know what I could not have done to her, sitting calm and self-satisfied there.
“It is quite time this should be over,” said the virtuous Miss Reredos; “I was not making game of you; but I certainly was amusing myself, as I thought you were doing, also. Why, I am three or four years older than you—you silly boy!—don’t you know?”
She might have said five or six years, which would have been nearer the truth, but it mattered nothing to Johnnie.
“I could be as good a man as him for your sake,” he cried, with a gasp. Miss Reredos only played with the fan which dangled from her wrist.
“Say you did not mean it, Laura,” whispered the unfortunate boy again.
But Laura shook her head.
“No, no—it has gone quite far enough. Oh! I’m not angry—but, dear, dear, don’t you see it’s no use. You are a great deal—at least you are younger than I am—and we have nothing, neither of us—and besides”——
“Besides I am a cripple, and you don’t love me!” cried Johnnie, wildly.
“I can’t contradict it,” said Circe with a toss of her head.