Jen. At all events, if Mr. Spreadbrow is going away to-night, you need not be alarmed on my account. I am a flower that is not picked in a minute.
Wil. Well said, miss! And as he is going, and as you won’t see him no more, I don’t mind saying that a better-spoken young gentleman I don’t know. A good, honest, straightfor’ard young chap he is—looks you full in the face with eyes that seem to say, “I’m a open book—turn me over—look me through and through—read every page of me, and if you find a line to be ashamed on, tell me of it, and I’ll score it through.”
Jen. (demurely), I dare say Mr. Spreadbrow is much as other young men are.
Wil. As other young men? No, no—Lord forbid, miss! Come—say a good word for him, miss, poor young gentleman. He’s said many a good word of you, I’ll go bail.
Jen. Of me?
Wil. (takes ladder which is leaning against the house and places it against upper porch of house, and, going a little way up it, speaks this speech from it, Jenny remains seated.) Ay. Why, only Toosday, when I was at work again the high road, he rides up on his little bay ’oss, and he stands talking to me over the hedge and straining his neck to catch a sight of you at a window; that was Toosday. “Well, Wilcox,” says he, “it’s a fine day!”—it rained hard Toosday, but it’s always a fine day with him. “How’s Miss Northcott?” says he. “Pretty well, sir,” says I. “Pretty she always is; and well she ought to be if the best of hearts and the sweetest of natures will do it!” Well, I knew that, so off I goes to another subject, and tries to interest him in drainage, and subsoils, and junction pipes; but no, nothin’ would do for him, but he must bring the talk back to you. So at last I gets sick of it, and I up and says: “Look ye here, Mr. Spreadbrow,” says I, “I’m only the gardener. This is Toosday, and Miss Northcott’s pa’s in the study, and I dessay he’ll be happy to hear what you’ve got to say about her.” Lord, it’d ha’ done your heart good to see how he flushed up as he stuck his spurs into the bay and rode off fifteen miles to the hour. (Laughing.) That was Toosday.
Jen. (very angrily). He had no right to talk about me to a servant.
Wil. (coming down from ladder). But, bless you, don’t be hard on him, he couldn’t help it, miss. But don’t you be alarmed, he’s going away to-night, for many and many a long year, and you won’t never be troubled with him again. He’s going with a heavy heart, take my word for it, and I see his eyes all wet, when he spoke about saying good-bye to you; he’d the sorrow in his throat, but he’s a brave lad, and he gulped it down, though it was as big as an apple. (Ring.) There he is. Soothe him kindly, miss—don’t you be afraid, you’re safe enough—he’s a good lad, and he can’t do no harm now.
[Exit Wilcox.
Jen. What does he want to go to-day for? he wasn’t going for three months. He could remain if he liked; India has gone on very well without him for five thousand years: it could have waited three months longer; but men are always in such a hurry. He might have told me before—he would have done so if he really, really liked me! I wouldn’t have left him—yes I would—but then that’s different. Well, if some people can go, some people can remain behind, and some other people will be only too glad to find some people out of their way!