Anne drew back and shook her head, for she would not trust her voice.
‘Well, Mrs. Garland, then you shall have it,’ said Bob, tossing the shawl to that ready receiver. ‘If you don’t, upon my life I will throw it out to the first beggar I see. Now, here’s a parcel of cap ribbons of the splendidest sort I could get. Have these—do, Anne!’
‘Yes, do,’ said Mrs. Garland.
‘I promised them to Matilda,’ continued Bob; ‘but I am sure she won’t want ’em, as she has got some of her own: and I would as soon see them upon your head, my dear, as upon hers.’
‘I think you had better keep them for your bride if you have promised them to her,’ said Mrs. Garland mildly.
‘It wasn’t exactly a promise. I just said, “Til, there’s some cap ribbons in my box, if you would like to have them.” But she’s got enough things already for any bride in creation. Anne, now you shall have ’em—upon my soul you shall—or I’ll fling them down the mill-tail!’
Anne had meant to be perfectly firm in refusing everything, for reasons obvious even to that poor waif, the meanest capacity; but when it came to this point she was absolutely compelled to give in, and reluctantly received the cap ribbons in her arms, blushing fitfully, and with her lip trembling in a motion which she tried to exhibit as a smile.
‘What would Tilly say if she knew!’ said the miller slily.
‘Yes, indeed—and it is wrong of him!’ Anne instantly cried, tears running down her face as she threw the parcel of ribbons on the floor. ‘You’d better bestow your gifts where you bestow your l—l—love, Mr. Loveday—that’s what I say!’ And Anne turned her back and went away.
‘I’ll take them for her,’ said Mrs. Garland, quickly picking up the parcel.