“What fellow?” replied the quarter-master, drily.
“Why, Seymour, as he called himself.”
“I can make you happy on that head. Lieutenant Seymour has gone to ———. Give me another light, Julia. Pipes now-a-days, are not what they used to be.”
“But, where did Seymour go to?”
“Go to?” and the quarter-master gave a puff. “His regiment, I suppose.”
“Whatever news his last letters brought, egad!” said Josiah, “it regularly upset him. Mrs. Manby told me privately, that he turned pale when he read them; and he must have been confoundedly astonished, for he left the change out of half-a-crown upon the counter. I wonder what it will turn out to be? I think it will be debt; but George Gripp sticks to Ills first opinion, and says he’s sure it will prove felony.”
I could not calmly listen while such infamous imputations were thrown out against the man I loved, but rose and left the room, and, retiring to my own apartment, I communed with my own sad thoughts, and asked myself whether Seymour could be aught but what my fancy pictured him. One moment’s reflection established him firmly in my estimation; and every insinuation to his disadvantage faded from my memory.
I opened the easement, and looked pensively on the little flower garden beneath the window. How often had I watched impatiently where I stood now, until the trysting hour arrived, and my husband came stealing through the shrubbery to whisper in my delighted ear assurances of endless love! Suddenly a noise among the bushes startled me; a figure approached and stopped below the window; it was my brother. In a low voiee he told me to be silent, and next moment sprang into the apartment.
I remarked that his manner was hurried, and his faee flushed, as if from some violent exertion.
“What has happened, William? Speak; are you ill? Has there been an accident?”