The Salamanca Corpus: Yeoman Fleetwood (1900 ... - Gredos

The Salamanca Corpus: Yeoman Fleetwood (1900)
aunt returned bewailing the hasty departure of their guests, and requesting that the
remains of her maligned orange cordial might be forthwith returned to her.
“What came over you, Nephew, I’m sure I cannot tell; no wonder the gentleman was in
a passion. I've seen my own grandfather stamp and rave fit to burst a blood-vessel when
my grandmother so much as hinted as he'd had enough. But she'd no more have thought
of taking away the bottle — an' him her own husband, mind you — than she would
have of jumping over the moon; an' you to go that bold an' lock up the brandy the very
first time that nice, handsome young gentleman sets foot i' th' house. Let me tell you,
Simon, if it wasn't for making a disturbance before strangers, I'd have paid you the
value of the stuff right down and had it straight out again. 'Tis your brandy I know well
enough — every-thing i' this house is yours — but next year, if I live, I'll make a gallon
for myself, please Heaven — at least I'll not have the family disgraced by letting
company be turned away from the door that gate."
Simon unlocked the chiffonier and restored the decanter to his aunt in silence; but she
was not appeased.
“Never did I see any one like ye, Simon," she grumbled. "'Twas never the way of the
Fleetwoods to be that stiff. Why, Grandfather, I tell you, liked a drop o' drink as well as
any one, and no one was more respected in the neighbourhood. And my father, honest
man, had a glass every now and then and was none the worse for it. As for my dear
brother, you know as well as I do, Simon, that he thought no harm of an occasional
bowl of punch with a neighbour, though he was a very temperate man. But as for you, I
well nigh believe you'd rather die than make merry. But I'll have my own gallon of
orange brandy next year as how 'tis."
“And so you shall, Aunt Binney”, said Simon. "You
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shall even have two, if you like; provided you are discreet in your hospitality.”
He smiled at the old lady as she walked away with her tray, but became very grave
when once more alone.
Crossing the room to the mantelpiece he stood leaning against it, endeavouring to
collect his thoughts. What was it the man had said — and the girl too? Was it possible