It May Be True, Vol. 1 (of 3). Henry Wood
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Название: It May Be True, Vol. 1 (of 3)
Автор: Henry Wood
Издательство: Public Domain
Жанр: Зарубежная классика
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"Bob used to come up here, Miss Neville, and sit in the window while uncle was at work."
"At work! what work, Edith?"
"The book shelves. Oh! have you not seen them? do come and look, they are so nice. See, he put them all up by himself, and worked so hard, and when they were done he made us bring all your books; then he set them up, and desired us not to meddle with them as they were only for you. Was it not kind of him? We told him it was just what you wanted."
"How could you? I did not want them at all."
"Yes, Miss Neville, indeed you did; you said long before you went away how much you should like some."
But Amy thought she neither wanted nor liked them, and felt vexed they had been put up.
"Ah!" said Fanny, catching the vexed expression, "you can thank him for them when he comes again; we were to tell you so, and that he would be here in November, and this is August Miss Neville, so it's only three months to wait."
"You can tell him Fanny when he comes, that I am much obliged to him, lest I should forget to do so."
And Amy turned away, feeling more vexed than she liked to acknowledge to herself; she had had nothing to do with putting up the shelves, but would Mrs. Linchmore think so if she knew it? And did she know it, and what had she thought? "Mamma was right," said she to her self. "It is very hard to be a governess; and he has misinterpreted and misjudged me."
A thorn had sprung up in Amy's path, which already wounded her slightly.
CHAPTER V.
VISITORS ARRIVE
O! if in this great world of strife, This mighty round of human life, We had no friends to cheer, O! then how cold the world would seem! How desolate the ebbing stream Of life from year to year!
Autumn passed away, and winter spread its icy mantle over the earth. Abroad all looked bleak, cold, and desolate. Trees had lost their leaves, flowers their blossoms, and the beautiful green fields were covered with snow; while here and there a snowdrop reared her drooping head from under its white veil, or a crocus feebly struggled to escape its cold embraces. Within doors, things wore a brighter aspect than they had done for some time past. Visitors had arrived at Brampton, who, it was hoped, would enliven the old Hall, and dissipate the dulness of its haughty mistress. Rooms long unoccupied had bright, cheerful fires blazing in the grates; footsteps hurried to and fro, echoing through the long, lofty passages, where all before had been so still and silent. The old, gloomy, melancholy look had totally disappeared, and the house teemed with life and mirth.
Mrs. Hopkins was no longer nurse, but had been installed as housekeeper in the room of one who had grown too old for the office; and was all smiles and importance, much to the disgust of Mason, the lady's maid, who, having always considered herself a grade above the Nurse, now found herself a mere cipher next to the all-important Housekeeper, who seemed to sweep everything before her as she walked grandly down the long corridor; Mason's pert toss of the head, and still perter replies, were met with cool disdain, much to her disappointment, as she tried to discomfort her; but all to no purpose, as Mrs. Hopkins' sway continued paramount; and she wielded her sceptre with undiminished power, notwithstanding all the arts used to dislodge her.
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