One Of Them. Lever Charles James
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Название: One Of Them

Автор: Lever Charles James

Издательство: Public Domain

Жанр: Зарубежная классика

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “Why so?” asked Layton, eagerly.

      “It was May put it into my head the other morning. She said it was downright cruelty to make you come out and stop here; that you could n’t, with all your politeness, conceal how much the place bored you!”

      “She said this?”

      “Yes; and she added that if it were not for Clara, with her German lessons and her little Venetian barcarolles, you would have been driven to desperation.”

      “But you could have told her, Henry, that I delighted in this place; that I never had passed such happy days as here.”

      “I did think so when we knew them first, but latterly it seemed to me that you were somehow sadder and graver than you used to be. You didn’t like to ride with us; you seldom came down to the river; you’d pass all the morning in the library; and, as May said, you only seemed happy when you were giving Clara her lesson in German.”

      “And to whom did May say this?”

      “To me and to Clara.

      “And Clara, – did she make any answer?”

      “Not a word. She got very pale, and seemed as though she would burst out a-crying. Heaven knows why! Indeed, I ‘m not sure the tears were n’t in her eyes, as she hurried away; and it was the only day I ever saw May Leslie cross.”

      “I never saw her so,” said Layton, half rebukefully.

      “Then you didn’t see her on that day, that’s certain! She snubbed Charley about his riding, and would n’t suffer Mrs. Morris to show her something that had gone wrong in her embroidery; and when we went down to the large drawing-room to rehearse our tableau, – that scene you wrote for us, – she refused to take a part, and said, ‘Get Clara; she ‘ll do it better!’”

      “And it was thus our little theatricals fell to the ground,” said Layton, musingly; “and I never so much as suspected all this!”

      “Well,” said the boy, with a hesitating manner, “I believe I ought not to have told you. I ‘m sure she never intended I should; but somehow, after our tiff – ”

      “And did you quarrel with her?” asked Layton, eagerly.

      “Not quarrel, exactly; but it was what our old commander used to call a false-alarm fire; for I thought her unjust and unfair towards you, and always glad when she could lay something or other to your charge, and I said so to her frankly.”

      “And she?”

      “She answered me roundly enough. ‘When you are a little older, young gentleman,’ said she, ‘you ‘ll begin to discover that our likings and dislikings are not always under our own control.’ She tried to be very calm and cool as she said it, but she was as pale as if going to faint before she finished.”

      “She said truly,” muttered Layton to himself; “our impulses are but the shadows our vices or virtues throw before them.” Then laying his arm on the boy’s shoulder, he led him away, to plan and plot out a future course of study, and repair all past negligence and idleness.

      Ere we leave this scene, let us follow Mrs. Morris, who, having quitted the house, quickly went in search of Charles Heathcote. There was that in the vexed and angry look of the young man, as he left the room, that showed her how easy it would be in such a moment to become his confidante. Through the traits of his resentment she could read an impatience that could soon become indiscretion. “Let me only be the repository of any secret of his mind,” muttered she, – “I care not what, – and I ask nothing more. If there be one door of a house open, – be it the smallest, – it is enough to enter by.”

      She had not to go far in her search. There was a small raised terrace at the end of the garden, – a favorite spot with him, – and thither she had often herself repaired to enjoy the secret luxury of a cigar; for Mrs. Morris smoked whenever opportunity permitted that indulgence without the hazard of forfeiting the good opinion of such as might have held the practice in disfavor. Now, Charles Heathcote was the only confidant of this weakness, and the mystery, small as it was, had served to establish a sort of bond between them.

      “I knew I should find you here,” said she, stealing noiselessly to his side, as, leaning over the terrace, he stood deep in thought. “Give me a cigar.”

      He took the case slowly from his pocket, and held it towards her in silence.

      “How vastly polite! Choose one for me, sir,” said she, pettishly.

      “They ‘re all alike,” said he, carelessly, as he drew one from the number and offered it.

      “And now a light,” said she, “for I see yours has gone out, without your knowing it. Pray do mind what you ‘re doing; you’ve let the match fall on my foot. Look there!”

      And he did look, and saw the prettiest foot and roundest ankle that ever Parisian coquetry had done its uttermost to grace; but he only smiled half languidly, and said, “There’s no mischief done – to either of us!” the last words being muttered to himself. Her sharp ears, however, had caught them; and had he looked at her then, he would have seen her face a deep crimson. “Is the play over? Have they left the billiard-room?” asked he.

      “Of course it is over,” said she, mockingly. “Sportsmen rarely linger in the preserves where there is no game.”

      “What do you think of that same Mr. O’Shea? You rarely mistake people. Tell me frankly your opinion of him,” said he, abruptly.

      “He plays billiards far better than you,” said she, dryly.

      “I ‘m not talking of his play, I ‘m asking what you think of him.”

      “He’s your master at whist, écarté, and piquet. I think he’s a better pistol shot; and he says he rides better.”

      “I defy him. He’s a boastful, conceited fellow. Take his own account, and you ‘ll not find his equal anywhere. But still, all this is no answer to my question.”

      “Yes, but it is, though. When a man possesses a very wide range of small accomplishments in a high degree of perfection, I always take it for granted that he lives by them.”

      “Just what I thought, – exactly what I suspected,” broke he in, angrily. “I don’t know how we ever came to admit him here, as we have. That passion May has for opening the doors to every one has done it all.”

      “If people will have a menagerie, they must make up their mind to meet troublesome animals now and then,” said she, dryly.

      “And then,” resumed he, “the absurdity is, if I say one word, the reply is, ‘Oh, you are so jealous!’”

      “Naturally enough!” was the cool remark.

      “Naturally enough! And why naturally enough? Is it of such fellows as Layton or O’Shea I should think of being jealous?”

      “I think you might,” said she, gravely. “They are, each of them, very eager to succeed in that about which you show yourself sufficiently indifferent; and although May is certainly bound by the terms of her father’s will, there are conditions by which she can purchase her freedom.”

      “Purchase her freedom! СКАЧАТЬ