15. CHAPTER XV.
HANS HUDDLESHINGLE, ESQ.
“Good morning, Miss Nina,” said Mr. Huddleshingle,
with a movement of his head, which approached as near
to a bow as this phlegmatic gentleman was capable of
making it, “I was passing by, and thought I would come
in and see you this bright morning.”
“It is a very fine day, sir,” said Nina, coldly, and
stiffly sitting down, with a glance at Mr. Huddleshingle's
personal adornments, which conveyed plainly to that gentleman,
the fact that she had seen through his pretense
of coming in incidentally, as he was “passing by.”
To explain this conduct a word is necessary. Mr. Huddleshingle
was one of Nina's most devoted admirers—and
though his “good estate,” and purity of (German) blood,
had made him rather popular with the young ladies of
the quarter, he was not in the least liked by Nina. She
had signified this dislike so often that she began to experience
a feeling of resentment at Mr. Huddleshingle's
repeated visits—that gentleman having either not perceived,
or declining to perceive, the light in which his
attentions were regarded.
Her dislike was attributable to the fact, that Mr. Huddleshingle
perseveringly monopolized her society at the
social gatherings in the neighborhood, thereby excluding
from her, all the more agreeable beaux who found it difficult
to edge in a word while the young German's flood
of phlegmatic commonplace was rolling on;—he was,
moreover, undeniably wearying to a young girl of Nina's
spirit;—in short, Mr. Huddleshingle was what in our
own day, ladies (and other persons), call a bore. Add to
this, that her father had remonstrated with her for treating
him so contemptuously, and the reasons for Nina's
dislike of her visitor will be completely understood.
“It is a very fine day,” said Mr. Huddleshingle, “and
I have been up at the court-house all the morning attending
to a case I have there, which I think, is the most
barefaced claim against me I ever saw. I'll tell you
how it commenced—”
“I never could understand legal points, sir,” said Nina,
impatiently.
“But this is very plain. It began with—”
“Mr. Huddleshingle, I have a headache to-day; I
hope you will excuse me if I leave you. I will send
Max down to entertain you—I am so stupid, I could not.”
“If you have a headache I will not stay,” said Mr.
Huddleshingle, somewhat irate at the young girl's manner,
“I suppose that wise-looking Mr. Lyttelton, who
went away as I came up, gave it to you.”
“No, sir—he did not.”
“He's enough to give any one the headache.”
“I see nothing in Mr. Lyttelton to produce such an
effect, sir.”
“Well, I'll go, Miss Nina, I see you have had a very
agreeable visitor—this Mr. Lyttelton, and can't bear me
after him. Good-morning.”
“Good-morning, sir,” said Nina, with contemptuous
indifference. Mr. Huddleshingle left the room with
wrath in his heart.
“I am glad Max was not here,” said Nina to herself,
when her visitor had disappeared. “He would have
challenged Mr. Huddleshingle on the spot,” she added,
laughing. “Oh, what a tiresome, disagreeable person
that is. On my word, I will not speak to him hereafter
—no, that would offend father. I suppose I must.”
And Nina returned to the bundle, as Max came out of
his room, waving the new cap and shouting, “What a
glorious, splendid feather!”
