Page:Cuthbert Bede--Little Mr Bouncer and Tales of College Life.djvu/296

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If Captain Alvanley thinks so, why does n't he come? "O, my cousin, shallow-hearted!" Tennyson must decidedly alter his verses, and make the gentleman the one who is "falser than all fancy fathoms."

Two o'clock strikes, and no sight or sound of carriage. I pace again down the Avenue-road. There is faithful Amy, still at her window—still on the watch. She looks as though she had been weeping, and I try, by friendly signs and nods, to comfort her. "She speaks, and yet she says nothing. What of that? Her eye discourses." As I look up to her, I wish that "I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek;" and, of course, I think of "Romeo and Juliet," and the Balcony Scene. But where is her Romeo? Are his "love's light wings" impeded by a yellow post-chaise? Once more, I silently go back to my mile-stone.

I hum operatic snatches, and go through the chief part of my vocal performances; but Trap has a delicate ear for music, and he howls down my attempts. Another hour slowly passes, and still no Captain Alvanley.

I steal under the shadow of the trees, and I see poor Amy looking so sad, that I have scarcely the heart to approach her without good tidings. I go back, therefore, to my mile-stone; and my comforting cigar-case is being rapidly diminished. Only one weed is left, for I did not calculate on such a lengthened vigil—so I husband it; but, at last, it is smoked out, and I am cigarless. And still there is no carriage—no Captain Alvanley!