you say--_you alone, remember_."
"Thank you, Wilkins; when I can go I will tell you."
"Just so."
Wilkins stepped back to his desk, and Guly still stood arranging the new
pieces of embroidery. There was for him a charm about them. Accustomed
as he was to seeing such things, he could not get tired of looking at
these. They were far more beautiful than any of those which were really
French, and had come from over the seas; and from every graceful twig
and twining tendril, there looked up at him a pair of soft brown eyes,
whose gentle glances went down, and made themselves a home in the boy's
pure heart.
CHAPTER XV.
----"He is a man,
Setting his fate aside, of comely virtues;
Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice--
An honor in him which buys out his faults--
But with a noble fury and fair spirit,
Seeing his reputation touched to death,
He did oppose his foe."
Shakspeare.
"Mr. Delancey, will you wait one minute, sir!" exclaimed Arthur, coming
in, apparently much excited, just as Guly replaced the box on the shelf.
The merchant stopped just as he was going out of the door, and planting
his cane firmly down upon the floor, turned round with the frown between
his eyebrows quite visibly deepened.
"Well, sir, what will you have?"
"Your attention, if you can give it, sir--one moment at your desk."
"Whatever you've got to say, say it here."
"No, sir, I must see you privately."
Wilkins and Guly both looked at Arthur in mute astonishment. His face
was flushed and heated, his breath came short, like one who had been
running, and his eyes and lips, and whole manner, evinced intense
agitation and excitement.
"Is it such particular business, young man, that you must detain me
now?" said the merchant, somewhat angered at the prospect of detention
from his usual dinner hour.
"It is very particular business to me, sir; and interests you not much
less."
Mr. Delancey waved his hand impatiently, for Arthur to precede him to
his desk; then, with hasty step, and planting his cane each tread
visibly on the floor, he followed him, and seating himself with formal
precision, took off his hat, and leant stiffly back in his chair.
"Well, sir?"
Arthur would almost have as soon undergone the terrors of the
Inquisition as to brave the tempest he expected soon to fall upon his
devoted head. He called up all his courage, however, and began.
"This afternoon, sir, I
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