“I suppose you don’t know me, Mr. Wolf; but I have heard a great deal about the young engineer, and I assure you I am delighted to see you,” she added, with a kind of roguish look, which made me feel just as though I was “going up.” “I am Grace Toppleton.”
The daughter of the major! I had heard what a pretty, gentle, amiable girl she was, and I was positively sure that the reports did not belie her.
“I have often heard of you, though I never had the pleasure of seeing you before,” I replied, as gallantly as my flustered state of mind would permit.
Still imitating the gentlemanly conductor, I took her gloved hand, and attempted to help her up the high step of the engine-room. I felt, at this particular moment, just as though I was in the seventh heaven. As the elegant young lady was about to step up, a rude grasp was laid on my shoulder; so rude that Miss Grace lost her foothold on the step, and was thrown back upon the ground.
Turning round, I discovered that my rough assailant was Captain Synders, the constable of Centreport. He was attended by Colonel Wimpleton and the skipper of the canal boat which had been blown up. To my astonishment, Miss Grace leaped upon the dummy without my help, and I was held back by the savage grasp of the officer. My blissful dream had suddenly been disturbed, and I was mad. The envious Centreporters had chosen the moment of my greatest joy to pounce upon me.
THE VISITORS FROM CENTREPORT.—[Page 226].
CHAPTER XXI.
SOME TALK WITH COLONEL WIMPLETON.
I was very intent upon explaining to Miss Grace Toppleton the mysteries of the dummy engine, and I was not pleased to have the agreeable interview broken off. I was vexed, annoyed, and disconcerted. The beautiful young lady looked at me, and I thought I could see the indications of sympathy upon her face.