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‘If it hadn’t been for that；’ thought Joe； ‘I should never have
walked into poor Tom Cobb。 She’s twenty times handsomer than
ever。 She might marry a Lord！’
He didn’t say this。 He only thought it—perhaps looked it also。
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Dolly was glad to see him； and was so sorry her father and mother
were away from home。 Joe begged she wouldn’t mention it on any
account。
Dolly hesitated to lead the way into the parlour； for there it was
nearly dark； at the same time she hesitated to stand talking in the
workshop； which was yet light and open to the street。 They had
got by some means； too； before the little forge； and Joe having her
hand in his （which he had no right to have； for Dolly only gave it
him to shake）； it was so like standing before some homely altar
being married； that it was the most embarrassing state of things in
the world。
‘I have come；’ said Joe； ‘to say good…bye—to say good…bye for I
don’t know how many years； perhaps for ever。 I am going abroad。’
Now this was exactly what he should not have said。 Here he
was； talking like a gentleman at large who was free to come and go
and roam about the world at pleasure； when that gallant
coachmaker had vowed but the night before that Miss Varden held
him bound in adamantine chains； and had positively stated in so
many words that she was killing him by inches； and that in a
fortnight more or thereabouts he expected to make a decent end
and leave the business to his mother。
Dolly released her hand and said ‘Indeed！’ She remarked in the
same breath that it was a fine night； and in short； betrayed no
more emotion than the forge itself。
‘I couldn’t go；’ said Joe； ‘without coming to see you。 I hadn’t the
heart to。’
Dolly was more sorry than she could tell； that he should have
taken so much trouble。 It was such a long way； and he must have
such a deal to do。 And how was Mr Willet—that dear old
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gentleman—
‘Is this all you say！’ cried Joe。
All！ Good gracious； what did the man expect！ She was obliged
to take her apron in her hand and run her eyes along the hem
from corner to corner； to keep herself from laughing in his face；—
not because his gaze confused her—not at all。
Joe had small experience in love affairs； and had no notion how
different young ladies are at different times； he had expected to
take Dolly up again at the very point where he had left her after
that delicious evening ride； and was no more prepared for such an
alteration than to see the sun and moon change places。 He had
buoyed himself up all day with an indistinct idea that she would
certainly say ‘Don’t go；’ or ‘Don’t leave us；’ or ‘Why do you go？’ or
‘Why do you leave us？’ or would give him some little
encouragement of that sort； he had even entertained the
possibility of her bursting into tears； of her throwing herself into
his arms； of her falling down in a fainting fit without previous
word or sign； but any approach to such a line of conduct as this；
had been so far from his thoughts that he could only look at her in
silent wonder。
Dolly in the meanwhile； turned to the corners of her apron； and
measured the sides； and smoothed out the wrinkles； and was as
silent as he。 At last after a long pause； Joe said good…bye。 ‘Good…
bye’—said Dolly—with as pleasant a smile as if he were going into
the next street； and were coming back to supper； ‘good…bye。’
‘Come；’ said Joe； putting out both hands； ‘Dolly； dear Dolly；
don’t let us part like this。 I love you dearly； with all my heart and
soul； with as much truth and earnestness as ever man loved
woman in this world； I do believe。 I am a poor fellow； as you
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know—poorer now than ever； for I have fled from home； not being
able to bear it any longer； and must fight my own way without
help。 You are beautiful； admired； are loved by everybody； are well
off and happy； and may you ever be so！ Heaven forbid I should
ever make you otherwise； but give me a word of comfort。 Say
something kind to me。 I have no right to expect it of you； I know；
but I ask it because I love you； and shall treasure the slightest
word from you all through my life。 Dolly； dearest； have you
nothing to say to me？’
No。 Nothing。 Dolly was a coquette by nature； and a spoilt child。
She had no notion of being carried by storm in this way。 The
coachmaker would have been dissolved in tears； and would have
knelt down； and called himself names； and clasped his hands； and
beat his breast； and tugged wildly at his cravat； and done all kinds
of poetry。 Joe had no business to be going abroad。 He had no right
to be able to do it。 If he was in adamantine chains； he couldn’t。
‘I have said good…bye；’ said Dolly； ‘twice。 Take your arm away
directly； Mr Joseph； or I’ll call Miggs。’
‘I’ll not reproach you；’ answered Joe； ‘it’s my fault； no doubt。 I
have thought sometimes that you didn’t quite despise me； but I
was a fool to think so。 Every one must； who has seen the life I have
led—you most of all。 God bless you！’
He was gone； actually gone。 Dolly waited a little while； thinking
he would return； peeped out at the door； looked up the street and
down as well as the increasing darkness would allow； came in
again； waited a little longer； went upstairs humming a tune； bolted
herself in； laid her head down on her bed； and cried as if her heart
would break。 And yet such natures are made up of so many
contradictions； that if Joe Willet had come back that night； next
Charles Dickens