“And yet you’ve no cause to hate me, Matt, for I’ve been a good friend to you—and always shall, because I like you, Matt. Do you understand? I like you.”
So anxious did he seem to impress this upon her, that he put his arm around her waist, drew her towards him, and kissed her on the cheek, a ceremony he had never performed before. But Matt seemed by no means to appreciate the honour; as his lips touched her cheeks she shivered; and when he released her she began rubbing at the place as if to wipe the touch away.
If Mr. Monk noticed this action on the part of the girl he deemed it prudent to take no notice of it. He said a few more pleasant things to Matt, and again patted her cheek affectionately, then he left the cottage, taking William Jones with him. Ten minutes later William Jones returned alone.
“Where’s he?” asked Matt.
“Meanin’ Mr. Monk, Matt—he be gone!” said William Jones.
“Gone for good?” demanded Matt, impatiently.
“No; he ain’t, Matt. He’ll be down here to-morrow, he will; and you’d best be at home!”
Matt said nothing this time; she only turned away sullenly and shrugged her shoulders.
“Matt,” said William Jones, presently.
“Well?”