'Curse the
fellow!' he repeated, stamping the letter under foot, as though he would
crush it to atoms. 'Who ever saw such a piece of impudence as that!'
'What's the matter, my dear?' inquired Mrs. Jawleyford, alarmed lest it was
her dunning jeweller writing again.
'Matter!' shrieked Jawleyford, in a tone that sounded through the thick
wall of the room, and caused the hobbling old gardener on the terrace to
peep in at the heavy-mullioned window. 'Matter!' repeated he, as though he
had got his _coup de grace_; 'look there,' added he, handing over the
letter.
'Oh, my dear,' rejoined Mrs. Jawleyford soothingly, as soon as she saw it
was not what she expected. 'Oh, my dear, I'm sure there's nothing to make
you put yourself so much out of the way.' 'No!' roared Jawleyford,
determined not to be done out of his grievance. 'No!' repeated he; 'do you
call that nothing?'
'Why, nothing to make yourself unhappy about,' replied Mrs. Jawleyford,
rather pleased than otherwise; for she was glad it was not from Rings, the
jeweller, and, moreover, hated the monotony of Jawleyford Court, and was
glad of anything to relieve it.
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