Page:Stubbs's Calendar or The Fatal Boots.djvu/50

40 upon her cheek, "I can't refuse you; but I fear you are a sad naughty man."

Absorbed in the delicious reverie which was caused by the dear creature's confusion, we were both silent for a while, and should have remained so for hours perhaps, so lost were we in happiness, had I not been suddenly roused by a voice exclaiming from behind us,

"Don't cry, Mary; he is a swindling, sneaking scoundrel, and you are well rid of him!"

I turned round! O heaven! there stood Mary, weeping on Doctor Bates's arm, while that miserable apothecary was looking at me with the utmost scorn. The gardener who had let me in had told them of my arrival, and now stood grinning behind them. "Imperence!" was my Magdalen's only exclamation, as she flounced by with the utmost self-possession, while I, glancing daggers at the spies, followed her. We retired to the parlor, where she repeated to me the strongest assurances of her love.

I thought I was a made man. Alas! I was only an APRIL FOOL!