and you are quite at liberty to sit where you please,”
said Isopel. “However, young man,”
she continued, dropping her tone, which she had slightly
raised, “I believe what you said, that you were
merely talking about gypsy matters, and also what you
were going to say, if it was, as I suppose, that she
and you had no particular acquaintance.”
Isopel was now silent for some time. “What
are you thinking of?” said I. “I
was thinking,” said Belle, “how exceedingly
kind it was of you to get everything in readiness for
me, though you did not know that I should come.”
“I had a presentiment that you would come,”
said I; “but you forget that I have prepared
the kettle for you before, though it was true I was
then certain that you would come.” “I
had not forgotten your doing so, young man,”
said Belle; “but I was beginning to think that
you were utterly selfish, caring for nothing but the
gratification of your own strange whims.”
“I am very fond of having my own way,”
said I, “but utterly selfish I am not, as I dare
say I shall frequently prove to you. You will
often find the kettle boiling when you come home.”
“Not heated by you,” said Isopel, with
a sigh. “By whom else?” said I;
“surely you are not thinking of driving me away?”
“You have as much right here as myself,”
said Isopel, “as I have told you before; but
I must be going myself.” “Well,”
said I, “we can go together; to tell you the
truth, I am rather tired of this place.”
“Our paths must be separate,” said Belle.
“Separate,” said I, “what do you
mean? I shan’t let you go alone, I shall
go with you; and you know the road is as free to me
as to you; besides, you can’t think of parting
company with me, considering how much you would lose
by doing so; remember that you scarcely know anything
of the Armenian language; now, to learn Armenian from
me would take you twenty years.”
Belle faintly smiled. “Come,” said
I, “take another cup of tea.” Belle
took another cup of tea, and yet another; we had some
indifferent conversation, after which I arose and
gave her donkey a considerable feed of corn.
Belle thanked me, shook me by the hand, and then went
to her own tabernacle, and I returned to mine.
On the following morning, after breakfasting with
Belle, who was silent and melancholy, I left her in
the dingle, and took a stroll amongst the neighbouring
lanes. After some time I thought I would pay
a visit to the landlord of the public-house, whom
I had not seen since the day when he communicated
to me his intention of changing his religion.
I therefore directed my steps to the house, and on
entering it found the landlord standing in the kitchen.
Just then two mean-looking fellows, who had been
drinking at one of the tables, and who appeared to
be the only customers in the house, got up, brushed
past the landlord, and saying in a surly tone “We