Enraged by the retort, Wyvil would have drawn his sword, but a blow on
the arm disabled him.

"Plague on you, fellow!" he exclaimed; "you shall rue this to the last
day of your existence."

"Threaten those who heed you," replied Leonard, about to repeat the
blow.

"Do him no further injury!" cried Amabel, arresting his hand, and
looking with the greatest commiseration at Wyvil. "You have dealt with
him far too rudely already."

"Since I have your sympathy, sweet Amabel," rejoined Wyvil, "I care not
what rude treatment I experience from this churl. We shall soon meet
again." And bowing to her, he strode out of the room.

Leonard followed him to the shop-door, hoping some further pretext for
quarrel would arise, but he was disappointed. Wyvil 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