She gave not the faintest sign of recognition, even to the
dropping of an eyelid. The people had stopped talking and were
staring. The blood rushed to Perez' forehead.
"Good day, Miss Edwards," he said, firmly and distinctly, yet
respectfully, his hat still in his hand. Jonathan, in his indignation,
was as red as he, but Desire could not have appeared more unconscious
of being addressed had she been stone deaf as well as blind. In a
moment more she had passed on and entered the carriage, and the people
were left with something to talk about. Now, Captain Perez Hamlin had
gone to meeting that morning as much in love with Desire Edwards as
four days thinking of little else save a fair face and charming form
might be expected to leave a susceptible young man, particularly when
the manly passion is but the resurrection of an unforgotten love of
boyhood. He walked home somewhat more angry with the same young woman
than he could remember ever having been with anybody. If a benevolent
fairy had asked him his dearest wish just then, it would have been
that Desire Edwards might be transformed into a young gentleman for
about five minutes, in order that he might impart to him the
confoundedest thrashing that a young gentleman ever experienced, nor
did even the consciousness that no such transformation was possible,
prevent his fingers from tingling with a most ungallant aspiration to
box her small ears till they were as red as his own face had been at
the moment she cut him so coolly.
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