Virginia laughed outright. Her cousin did not deign to look at her. His temper was slipping its leash.
“I wonder whether you hear me,” he remarked.
No answer.
“Colonel Carvel hires you, doesn't he? He pays you wages, and the first time his daughter comes in here you refuse to do her a favor. By thunder, I'll see that you are dismissed.”
Still Eliphalet gave him no manner of attention, but began marking the tags at the bottom of the pile.
It was at this unpropitious moment that Colonel Carvel walked into the store, and his daughter flew into his arms.
“Well, well,” he said, kissing her, “thought you'd surprise me, eh, Jinny?”
“Oh, Pa,” she cried, looking reproachfully up at his Face. “You knew—how mean of you!”
“I've been down on the Louisiana, where some inconsiderate man told me, or I should not have seen you today. I was off to Alton. But what are these goings-on?” said the Colonel, staring at young Mr. Colfax, rigid as one of his own gamecocks. He was standing defiantly over the stooping figure of the assistant manager.
“Oh,” said Virginia, indifferently, “it's only Clarence. He's so tiresome. He's always wanting to fight with somebody.”