Mildred Arkell. Vol. 1 (of 3). Henry Wood

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СКАЧАТЬ accomplished now—at least, ladies are. I was surprised, I must confess, to find William Arkell a proficient in such things, for men rarely learn them. I wonder they did not have you taught music, if only to play with him. He has to put up with a stranger, you see—poor me."

      Mildred's cheek burnt. "I have listened to him," she said; "hitherto he has found that sort of help enough, and liked it."

      "He is very attractive," resumed Charlotte, throwing her bright eyes full at Mildred, a saucy expression in their depths; "don't you find him so?"

      "I think you do," was Mildred's quiet answer.

      "Of course I do. Haven't I just said it? And so, I dare say, do a great many others. Yesterday evening—by the way, you ought to have been here yesterday evening."

      "Why ought I?"

      "Mrs. Arkell meant to send for you, and told William to go; I heard her. He forgot it; and then it grew too late."

      Mildred did not raise her eyes from her work. She was hemming a shirt-frill of curiously fine cambric—Mr. Arkell, behind the taste of his day, wore shirt-frills still. Mrs. Arkell rarely did any plain sewing herself; what her maid-servants did not do, was consigned to Mildred.

      "Do you like work?" inquired Miss Charlotte, watching her nimble fingers, and quitting abruptly the former subject.

      "Very much indeed."

      Charlotte shrugged her shoulders with a spice of contempt. "I hate it; I once tried to make a tray-cloth, but it came out a bag; and mamma never gave me anything more."

      "Who did the sewing at your house?"

      "Betsey, of course. Mamma also used to do some, and groan over it like anything. I think ladies never ought–"

      What Charlotte Travice was about to say ladies ought not to do was interrupted by the entrance of William. He had not been indoors since the early dinner, and looked pleased to see Mildred, who had come by invitation to spend a long afternoon.

      "Which of you will go out with me?" he asked, somewhat abruptly; and his mother came into the room as he was speaking.

      "Out where?" she asked.

      "My father has a little matter of business at Purford to-day, and is sending me to transact it. It is only a message, and won't take me two minutes to deliver; but it is a private one, and must be spoken either by himself or me. I said I'd go if Charlotte would accompany me," he added, in his half-laughing, half-independent manner. "I did not know Mildred was here."

      "And you come in and ask which of them will go," said Mrs. Arkell. "I think it must be Mildred. Charlotte, my dear, you will not feel offended if I say it is her turn? I like to be just and fair. It is you who have had all the drives lately; Mildred has had none."

      Charlotte did not answer. Mildred felt that it was her turn, and involuntarily glanced at William; but he said not a word to second his mother's wish. The sensitive blood flew to her face, and she spoke, she hardly knew what—something to the effect that she would not deprive Miss Travice of the drive. William spoke then.

      "But if you would like to go, Mildred? It is a long time since you went out, now I come to think of it."

      Now I come to think of it! Oh, how the admission of indifference chilled her heart!

      "Not this afternoon, thank you," she said, with decision. "I will go with you another opportunity."

      "Then, Charlotte, you must make haste, or we shall not be home by dark," he said. "Philip is bringing the carriage round."

      Mildred stood at the window and watched the departure, hating herself all the while for standing there; but there was fascination in the sight, in the midst of its pain. Would she win the prize, this new stranger? Mildred shivered outwardly and inwardly as the question crossed her mind.

      She saw them drive away—Charlotte in her new violet bonnet, with its inward trimming of pretty pink ribbons, her prettier face raised to his—William bending down and speaking animatedly—sober old Philip, who had been in the family ten years, behind them. Purford was a little place, about five miles off, on the road to Eckford; and they might be back by dusk, if they chose. It was not much past three now, and the winter afternoon was fine.

      Would she win him? Mildred returned to her seat, and worked on at the cambric frill, the question running riot in her brain. A conviction within her—a prevision, if you will—whispered that it would be a marriage particularly distasteful to Mr. and Mrs. Arkell. They did not yet dream of it, and would have been thankful to have their eyes opened to the danger. Mildred knew this; she saw it as clearly as though she had read it in a book; but she was too honourable to breathe it to them.

      When the frill was finished, she folded it up, and told her aunt she would take her departure; Peter had talked of going out after banking hours with a friend, and her mother, who was not well, would be alone. Mrs. Arkell made but a faint resistance to this: Mildred came and went pretty much as she liked.

      Peter, however, was at home when she got there, sitting over the fire in the dusk, in a thoughtful mood. On two afternoons in the week, Tuesdays and Thursdays, the bank closed at four; this was Thursday, and Peter had come straight home. Mildred took her seat at the table, against five o'clock should strike, the signal for their young maid-servant to bring the tea-tray in. It was quite dark outside, and the room was only lighted by the fire.

      "What are you thinking of, Peter?" Mrs. Dan presently broke the silence by asking.

      Peter took his chin from his hand where it had been resting, and his eyes from the fire, and turned his head to his mother. "I was thinking of a proposal Colonel Dewsbury made to me to-day," he answered; "deliberating upon it, in fact, and I think I have decided."

      This was something like Greek to Mrs. Dan; even Mildred was sufficiently aroused from her thoughts to turn to him in surprise.

      "The colonel wants me to go to his house in an evening, mother, and read the classics with his eldest son."

      "Peter!"

      "For about three hours, he says, from six till nine. He will give me a guinea a week."

      "But only think how you slave and fag all day at that bank," said Mrs. Dan, who in her ailing old age thought work (as did Charlotte Travice) the greatest evil of life.

      "And only think what a many additional comforts a guinea a week could purchase for you, mother," cried Peter in his affection; "our house would be set up in riches then."

      "Peter, my dear," she gravely said, "I do not suppose I shall be here very long; and for comforts, I have as many as I require."

      "Well, put it down to my own score, if you like," said Peter, with as much of a smile as he ever attempted; "I shall find the guinea useful."

      "But if you thus dispose of your evenings, what time should you have for your books?" resumed Mrs. Arkell.

      "I'll make that; I get up early, you know; and in one sense of the word, I shall be at my books all these three hours."

      "How came Colonel Dewsbury to propose it to you?"

      "I don't know. I met him as I was returning to the bank after dinner, and he began saying he was trying to find some one who would come in and read with Arthur. Presently he said, 'I wish you would come yourself, Mr. Arkell.' And after a little more СКАЧАТЬ