I often wasted hours, in dreamily composing intricate monograms on my
blotting-paper, in which Min's name was twisted into all sorts of
flowery characters, which were intermingled so as to be nearly
incomprehensible to any one unacquainted with my secret.
My fellow-clerks got an inkling of it, however.
They used to ask me, who "M" was; and, when I got savage, and told them
to mind their own business, they would "chaff" me, inquiring whether
"the unknown fair" was obdurately "cruel," or no!
Little Miss Pimpernell tried to cheer me up--telling me to "hope on,
hope ever;" and, to stick steadily to my work, for, that Min would be
certain to come back soon, when all would be well. But, I could not
content myself.
I got pale and thin, worrying myself to death.--Even Lady Dasher saw the
change in me, hinting one day to the vicar, in my hearing, that she was
positive I was in a decline, or suffering from heart-disease, and that
office-work was really too hard for me.
And when Min _did_ come back, things were but little brighter for me.
The first opportunity I had of speaking alone to her, I asked her if I
might still call her by her Christian name. She said, "certainly," with
a little tremor in her dear voice and a warm blush which almost tempted
me to say more. But, I remembered having pledged my word to Mrs Clyde,
and did not urge my suit, then or thereafter, by words or looks--as far
as I could help the latter.
We did not meet often now; and, perhaps, it was as well that we did not,
for our position was awkward for both of us.
When we did, however, it seemed very hard for me to speak to her in cold
conventional terms--when, my heart was overflowing with love towards
her; and, this made me appear constrained; while, she showed a shy
avoidance of me, which, only natural as it was, pained me--although I
was certain, all the time, that she had not changed towards me in the
least.
Really, if it had not been for the kind contrivances of dear little Miss
Pimpernell, I don't think we would have met for a long, long time, at
all.
Now, that my days were fully occupied at "the office," you know, I could
not meet her out, or see her at the window; and, in spite of her
mother's gracious intimation that I might call occasionally, I did not
care about going there in the evening to be stared into formality under
her icy eye.
When Christmastide came round again, too, there were no more of the
happy days that had occurred on its previous anniversary.
Although I had obtained special leave from my chief, through working up
an enormous number of old accounts beforehand, and thus gaining his good
will, it was entirely thrown away:--Min did not present herself at the
room of the evergreens once!
Mrs Clyde had checkmated me, again, there.
Had it not been for Miss Pimpernell's pleadings, I think I would now
have gone against her advice, and brought matters to an issue by another
proposal before the year was out.
My better judgment, however, restrained me from this, when I reflected
over all the circumstances of the case in more reasoning moments.
I saw that it was best for me to wait until the full probationary period
which my old friend had prescribed should elapse. I waited accordingly;
but, my heart was daily torn with a despair and longing, that very much
altered me from the merry Frank Lorton of former times.
Could I hope?
Would she only wait for me, too?
Should my trust and my devotion be finally rewarded?
Miss Pimpernell said "yes," and Min, when I saw her, _looked_ it; but,
my heart frequently said "no"--and, I was miserable in consequence!
It is a truism, that, when one loves truly, one is never satisfied.