What are you going to make out of it?'
'Nothing particular,' returned Vandeloup, with a yawn, as they
entered the house and stopped at the door of Pierre's room. 'I'm a
bit of a chemist, and amuse myself with these things.'
'You are clever,' observed Martha, admiringly; 'but here's that
man's room--we didn't give him the best'--apologetically--'as miners
are so rough.'
'Mademoiselle,' said Vandeloup, eagerly, as she turned to go, 'I see
there are a few blossoms of hemlock left in your flower there,'
touching it with his finger; 'will you give them to me?'
Martha Twexby stared; surely this was the long-expected come at
last--she had secured a lover; and such a lover--handsome, young,
and gallant,--the very hero of her dreams. She almost fainted in
delighted surprise, and unfastening the flowers with trembling
fingers, gave them to Gaston. He placed them in a button-hole of his
flannel coat, then before she could scream, or even draw back in
time, this audacious young man put his arm round her and kissed her
virginal lips. Miss Twexby was so taken by surprise, that she could
offer no resistance, and by the time she had recovered herself,
Gaston had disappeared into Pierre's room and closed the door after
him.
'Well,' she said to herself, as she returned to the bar, 'if that
isn't a case of love at first sight, my name ain't Martha Twexby,'
and she sat down in the bar with her nerves all of a flutter, as she
afterwards told a female friend who dropped in sometimes for a
friendly cup of tea.
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