Old Saint Pauls | Page 6

took no notice
of him, and proceeded at a slow pace towards Cheapside.
Half an hour afterwards, Stephen Bloundel came home. On being
informed of what had occurred, he was greatly annoyed, though he
concealed his vexation, and highly applauded his daughter's conduct.
Without further comment, he proceeded about his business, and
remained in the shop till it was closed. Wyvil did not return, and the
grocer tried to persuade himself they should see nothing more of him.
Before Amabel retired to rest, he imprinted a kiss on her snowy brow,
and said, in a tone of the utmost kindness, "You have never yet
deceived me, child, and I hope never will. Tell me truly, do you take
any interest in this young gallant?"
Amabel blushed deeply.
"I should not speak the truth, father," she rejoined, after a pause, "if I
were to say I do not."

"I am sorry for it," replied Bloundel, gravely. "But you would not be
happy with him. I am sure he is unprincipled and profligate:--you must
forget him."
"I will try to do so," sighed Amabel. And the conversation dropped.
On the following day, Maurice Wyvil entered the grocer's shop. He was
more richly attired than before, and there was a haughtiness in his
manner which he had not hitherto assumed. What passed between him
and Bloundel was not known, for the latter never spoke of it; but the
result may be gathered from the fact that the young gallant was not
allowed an interview with the grocer's daughter.
From this moment the change previously noticed took place in
Amabel's demeanour towards Leonard. She seemed scarcely able to
endure his presence, and sedulously avoided his regards. From being
habitually gay and cheerful, she became pensive and reserved. Her
mother more than once caught her in tears; and it was evident, from
many other signs, that Wyvil completely engrossed her thoughts. Fully
aware of this, Mrs. Bloundel said nothing of it to her husband, because
the subject was painful to him; and not supposing the passion deeply
rooted, she hoped it would speedily wear away. But she was
mistaken--the flame was kept alive in Amabel's breast in a manner of
which she was totally ignorant. Wyvil found means to deceive the
vigilance of the grocer and his wife, but he could not deceive the
vigilance of a jealous lover. Leonard discovered that his mistress had
received a letter. He would not betray her, but he determined to watch
her narrowly.
Accordingly, when she went forth one morning in company with her
younger sister (a little girl of some five years old), he made an excuse
to follow them, and, keeping within sight, perceived them enter Saint
Paul's Cathedral, the mid aisle of which was then converted into a
public walk, and generally thronged with town gallants, bullies,
bona-robas, cut-purses, and rogues of every description. In short, it was
the haunt of the worst of characters of the metropolis. When, therefore,
Amabel entered this structure, Leonard felt certain it was to meet her
lover. Rushing forward, he saw her take her course through the crowd,
and attract general attention from her loveliness--but he nowhere
discerned Maurice Wyvil.
Suddenly, however, she struck off to the right, and halted near one of

the pillars, and the apprentice, advancing, detected his rival behind it.
He was whispering a few words in her ear, unperceived by her sister.
Maddened by the sight, Leonard hurried towards them, but before he
could reach the spot Wyvil was gone, and Amabel, though greatly
confused, looked at the same time so indignant, that he almost regretted
his precipitation.
"You will, of course, make known to my father what you have just
seen?" she said in a low tone.
"If you will promise not to meet that gallant again without my
knowledge, I will not," replied Leonard.
After a moment's reflection, Amabel gave the required promise, and
they returned to Wood-street together. Satisfied she would not break
her word, the apprentice became more easy, and as a week elapsed, and
nothing was said to him on the subject, he persuaded himself she would
not attempt to meet her lover again.
Things were in this state at the opening of our tale, but upon the night
in question, Leonard fancied he discerned some agitation in Amabel's
manner towards him, and in consequence of this notion, he sought to
meet her gaze, as before related, after prayers. While trying to distract
his thoughts by arranging sundry firkins of butter, and putting other
things in order, he heard a light footstep behind him, and turning at the
sound, beheld Amabel.
"Leonard," she whispered, "I promised to tell you when I should next
meet Maurice Wyvil. He will be here to-night." And without giving
him time to answer, she retired.
For