For Mr. Maurice, on his notable errand of circumventing Heaven, had been
ahead of Fate, and had gone down on the pilot-boat to meet the
Frarnie--with no settled designs of course, but in his own impatient
pleasure; and, delighted with the shipmaster's report and with the
financial promise of the voyage, the cargo, the freights, and ventures and
all, had greeted Andrew with a large-hearted warmth and after a manner
that no churl could withstand; and unwilling to listen to any refusal, had
taken Andrew up to the mansion-house with him the moment the ship had
touched the wharf.
"You don't ask after her?" said Mr. Maurice when they were alone in the
chaise together. And knowing well enough what he meant, Andrew blushed
through all his bronze--knowing well enough, for had he not gone below in
a mighty hurry and tricked himself out in his best toggery so soon as he
understood there was no escape from the visit? Louie would have been glad
enough to see him in his red shirt and tarpaulin!
"Oh, you scamp!" said Mr. Maurice, quickly then detecting the blush.
"Don't say a word! I've been there myself: I know how you're longing to
see her; and she's been at the window looking through the glass every half
hour, the puss!"
"Mr. Maurice," began Andrew, half trembling, but wholly resolved, he
thought--although it must be confessed that with time, and distance, and
Frarnie's effusive letters and flattering prospects on the other hand,
Louie's image was not so bright at that moment as it had been at others,
and for that very reason Andrew was taking great credit to himself for his
upright intentions--credit enough to tide him over a good deal of baseness
if need were,--"Mr.
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