The Unclassed eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 469 pages of information about The Unclassed.

“And we from Putney,” said Waymark.

“You don’t mean it?  It’s been a warm undertaking.”

“How did you find the walk, Mr. Egger?”

“Bedad,” replied that gentleman, who had got hold of his friend’s exclamation, and used it with killing effect; “I made my possible, but, bedad, I could not much more.”

“You both look warm,” Waymark observed, smiling.  “I fear you hurried.  You should have been leisurely, as we were.”

“Now that’s cruel, Waymark.  You needn’t have reflected upon our solitariness.  If we’d been blessed with society such as you had, we’d have come slow enough.  As it was, we thought a good deal of our dinners.”

No fresh guests appeared to disturb the party.  When all had appeased their hunger, Waymark took a chair out on to the verandah for Ida.  He was spared the trouble of providing in the same way for Sally by Mr. O’Gree’s ready offices.  Poor Egger, finding himself deserted, opened a piano there was in the room, and began to run his finger over the keys.

“Let us have one of your German songs, my boy,” cried O’Gree.

“But it is the Sunday, and we arc still in England,” said the Swiss, hesitating.

“Pooh, never mind,” said Waymark.  “We’ll shut the door.  Sing my favourite, Mr. Egger,—­’Wenn’s Mailufterl.’”

When they left the inn, Waymark walked first with Ida, and Mr. O’Gree followed with Sally.  Egger brought up the rear; he had relapsed into a dreamy mood, and his mind seemed occupied with unearthly things.

With no little amusement Waymark had noted Sally’s demeanour under Mr. O’Gree’s attentions.  The girl had evidently made up her mind to be absolutely proper.  The Irishman’s respectful delicacy was something so new to her and so pleasant, and the question with her was how she could sufficiently show her appreciation without at the same time forfeiting his good opinion for becoming modesty.  All so new to her, accustomed to make an art of forwardness, and to school herself in the endurance of brutality.  She was constantly blushing in the most unfeigned way at his neatly-turned little compliments, and, when she spoke, did so with a pretty air of self-distrust which sat quite charmingly on her.  Fain, fain would O’Gree have proposed to journey back to London by the same train, but good taste and good sense prevailed with him.  At the ticket-barrier there was a parting.

“How delightful it would be, Miss Fisher,” said Mr. O’Gree, in something like a whisper, “if this lucky chance happened again.  If I only knew when you were coming again, there’s no telling but it might.”

Sally gave her hand, smiled, evidently wished to say something, but ended by turning away and running after her companions.



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The Unclassed from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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