There was scarcely any such thing as resisting his gay, frank, boyish
appeal; yet Hannah answered coldly: "Certainly not, Mr. Brudenell, though I fancy you might have found more
attractive company elsewhere. There can be little amusement for you in
sitting there and listening to the flying shuttle or the whirling wheel,
for hours together, pleasant as you might have first thought them."
"Yes, but it will! I shall hear music in the loom and wheel, and see
pictures in the fire," said the young man, settling himself,
comfortable.
Hannah drove her shuttle back and forth with a vigor that seemed to owe
something to temper.
Herman heard no music and saw no pictures; his whole nature was absorbed
in the one delightful feeling of being near Nora, only being near her,
that was sufficient for the present to make him happy. To talk to her
was impossible, even if he had greatly desired to do so; for the music
of which he had spoken made too much noise. He stayed as long as he
possibly could, and then reluctantly arose to leave. He shook hands with
Hannah first, reserving the dear delight of pressing Nora's hand for the
last.
The next day the weather changed again; it was fine; and Herman
Brudenell, as usual, presented himself at the hut; his excuse this time
being that he wished to inquire whether the sisters would not like to
have some repairs put upon the house--a new roof, another door and
window, or even a new room added; if so, his carpenter was even now at
Brudenell Hall, attending to some improvements there, and as soon as he
was done he should be sent to the hut.
But no; Hannah wanted no repairs whatever. The hut was large enough for
her and her sister, only too small to entertain visitors. So with this
pointed home-thrust from Hannah, and a glance that at once healed the
wound from Nora, he was forced to take his departure.
The next day he called again; he had, unluckily, left his gloves behind
him during his preceding visit.
They were very nearly flung at his head by the thoroughly exasperated
Hannah. But again he was made happy by a glance from Nora.
And, in short, almost every day he found some excuse for coming to the
cottage, overlooking all Hannah's rude rebuffs with the most
imperturbable good humor. At all these visits Hannah was present. She
never left the house for an instant, even when upon one occasion she saw
the cows in her garden, eating up all the young peas and beans. She let
the garden be utterly destroyed rather than leave Nora to hear words of
love that for her could mean nothing but misery. This went on for some
weeks, when Hannah was driven to decisive measures by an unexpected
event. Early one morning Hannah went to a village called "Baymouth," to
procure coffee, tea, and sugar. She went there, did her errand, and
returned to the hut as quickly as she could possibly could. As she
suddenly opened the door she was struck with consternation by seeing the
wheel idle and Nora and Herman seated close together, conversing in a
low, confidential tone. They started up on seeing her, confusion on
their faces.