Anne Hereford. Mrs. Henry Wood

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СКАЧАТЬ other is George Heneage--a great friend of mine. Hush! he is coming up."

      George Heneage entered. A young man, tall, slender, active; with a pale, pleasant face, and dark wavy hair. He had a merry smile, and I thought I had never seen any one so nice-looking. Mrs. Edwin Barley moved to the fire, and he took her hand in greeting.

      "Well! And how have you been all day? Dull?"

      It was the pleasantest voice! Quite a contrast after that of Mr. Edwin Barley.

      "Much any of you care whether I am dull or gay," she returned in answer, half laughing, half pouting. "The partridges get all your time, just now. I might be dead and buried before any of you came home to see after me."

      "We must shoot, you know, Selina. One of us, at any rate, came home a couple of hours ago--Barley."

      "Not to me. He has but just come in. You must be mistaken."

      "Look here. I was away for a short while from the party, seeing after the horse I lamed the other day, and when I got back, Barley had vanished: they thought he had gone to look after me. Perhaps he had in one sense, the great simpleton--Halloa! who's that?" He broke off, seeing me for the first time, as I stood partly within the shade of the window-curtain.

      "It is little Anne Hereford. She has come a week before I expected her. Anne, come forward, and let Mr. Heneage make love to you. It is a pastime he favours."

      He lifted me up by the waist, looked at me, and put me down again.

      "A pretty little face to make love to. How old are you?"

      "Eleven, sir."

      "Eleven!" he echoed, in surprise. "I should have taken you for nine at the very most. Eleven!"

      "And eleventeen in sober sense," interposed Selina, in her lightest and most careless manner. "I suppose children are so who never live with brothers and sisters. You should hear her talk, George! I tell her, her mamma and nurse have made an old woman of her."

      "Dare I venture to your presence in this trim, Mrs. Edwin Barley?"

      The speaker was the Rev. Mr. Martin, who came slowly in, pointing to his attire.

      "It is Barley's fault, and you must blame him, not me," he continued. "Barley invited me to say grace at your table to-day, and then disappeared, keeping us waiting for him until now, and giving me no time to go home and make myself presentable."

      "Never mind, Mr. Martin, there are worse misfortunes at sea," she said, in that charmingly attractive manner that she could sometimes use. "I have sat down with gentlemen in shooting-coats before to-day, and enjoyed my dinner none the worse for it. Is that you, Miss Delves?"

      Footsteps were passing the open door, and Miss Delves came in.

      "Did you speak, Mrs. Edwin Barley?"

      "Yes. Take this, child, please: she must have some tea. Anne dear, ask for anything to eat that you best fancy. You shall come up again after dinner."

      We went to a small parlour on the ground floor--Miss Delves said it was her own sitting-room--and she rang the bell. The maid who had been gossiping at the front door came in to answer it.

      "Are you at tea still, Jemima?"

      "Yes, Miss Delves."

      "I thought so. There's no regularity unless I'm about everywhere myself. Bring in a cup for Miss Hereford, and some bread and butter."

      They both left the room. I supposed that Miss Delves was going to dine presently, for a cloth was spread over one end of the table, with a knife and silver forks, the cruet-stand and salt-cellar, glasses, and a decanter of wine. Presently Jemima came back with a small tray, that had my tea upon it. She seemed a free-and-easy sort of girl, sat down in a chair, and began chattering. Another servant came in with a small jar of preserves. They called her Sarah.

      "Miss Delves has sent some jam for the young lady, if she'd like it. Or will she take a slice of cold meat first, she says?"

      "I'll have the jam, please."

      "That's right, Miss," laughed Jemima. "Sweets is good."

      "Arn't you coming to your tea, Jemima? There'll be a fuss if she comes in and finds you have not begun it."

      "Bother the tea! We are not obliged to swallow it down just at the minute she pleases," was the answer of Jemima.

      "I say," exclaimed the other suddenly, "what do you think I saw? Young King----"

      Jemima gave a warning shake of the head, and pointed to me. The conversation was dropped to a whisper, in which I once caught the words "that handsome George Heneage." Presently steps were heard approaching, and the two maids disturbed themselves. Sarah caught up the plate of bread and butter, and stood as if she were handing it to me, and Jemima stirred the fire vigorously. It had been warm in the day, but the bit of lighted fire in the grate looked pleasant in the autumn evening. The footsteps passed on.

      "How stupid you are, Sarah! startling one for nothing!" exclaimed Jemima.

      "I thought it was Charlotte Delves. It sounded just like her foot."

      "She's in the kitchen, and won't come out of it till the dinner's gone in. She's in one of her tempers to-day."

      "Is Charlotte Delves the mistress?" I could not help asking.

      Both the maids burst out laughing. "She would like to be, Miss; and she is, too, in many things," answered Jemima. "When young madam came home first----"

      "Hush, Jemima! she may go and repeat it again."

      Jemima looked at me. "No: she does not look like it. You won't go and repeat in the drawing-room the nonsense we foolish servants talk, will you, Miss Hereford?"

      "Of course I will not. Mamma taught me never to carry tales; she said it made mischief."

      "And so it does, Miss," cried Jemima. "Your mamma was a nice lady, I'm sure! Was she not Mrs. Edwin Barley's sister?"

      Before I had time to answer, Charlotte Delves came in. We had not heard her, and I thought she must have crept up on tiptoe. Sarah made her escape. Jemima took up the jam-pot.

      "What are you waiting for?" she demanded, with asperity. "I came in to see if the young lady wanted anything, ma'am."

      "When Miss Hereford wants anything, she will ring."

      Jemima retired. I went on with may tea, and Miss Delves began asking me questions about home and mamma. We were interrupted by a footman. He was bringing the fish out of the dining-room, and he laid the dish down on the table. Miss Delves turned her chair towards it, and began her dinner. I found that this was her usual manner of dining, but I thought it a curious one. The dishes, as they came out of the dining-room, were placed before her, and she helped herself. Her other meals she took when she pleased, Jemima generally waiting upon her. I did wonder who she could be.

      It seemed that I had to sit there a long while. I was then taken upstairs by Jemima, and my hair brushed. It hung down in curls all round, and Jemima pleased me by saying it was the loveliest СКАЧАТЬ