The Three Brides. Yonge Charlotte Mary

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СКАЧАТЬ could not bring herself to have them undressed for a year, and all the time the clock struck nohow!”

      “This is an anatomical study instead of a clock,” lamented Frank.  “I say, Cecil, do you like your friends to sit in their bones, like Sydney Smith?”

      “I never saw such a stupid old set of conservatives!” broke in Rosamond, feeling for Cecil’s mortification.  “In an unprejudiced eye the room looks infinitely better, quite revivified!  You ought to be much obliged to Cecil for letting you see all her beautiful things.”

      “Why don’t you favour us with yours?” said Charlie.

      “I know better!  Mine aren’t fit to wipe the shoes of Cecil’s!  When I get into the Rectory you’ll see how hideous they are!” said Rosamond, with the merriest complacency.  “Couvre-pieds to set your teeth on edge, from the non-commissioned officers’ wives; and the awfullest banner-screen you ever saw, worked by the drum-major’s own hands, with Her Majesty’s arms on one side, and the De Courcy ones on the other, and glass eyes like stuffed birds’ to the lion and unicorn.  We nearly expired from suppressed laughter under the presentation.”

      Then she went round, extorting from the lads admiration for Cecil’s really beautiful properties, and winning gratitude for her own cordial praise, though it was not the artistic appreciation they deserved.  Indeed, Cecil yielded to the general vote for the restoration of the humming-birds, allowing that, though she did not like stuffed birds in a drawing-room, she would not have banished them if she had known their history.

      This lasted till Charlie spied a carriage coming up the drive, which could be seen a long way off, so that there was the opportunity for a general sauve qui peut.  Cecil represented that Rosamond ought to stay and receive her bridal visits; but she was unpersuadable.  “Oh no!  I leave all that for you!  My time will come when I get into the Rectory.  We are going in the dog-cart to the other end of the parish.—What’s its name—Squattlesea Marsh, Julius?”

      “Squattlesford!” said Charlie.  “If Julius means to drive you, look out for your neck!”

      “No, it’s the other way, I’m going to drive Julius!—Come along, or we shall be caught!”

      Cecil stood her ground, as did Anne, who was too weary and indifferent to retreat, and Frank, who had taken another view of the carriage as it came nearer.

      “I must apologize for having brought nothing but my father’s card,” said Lady Tyrrell, entering with her sister, and shaking hands: “there’s no such thing as dragging him out for a morning call.”

      “And Mr. Charnock Poynsett is not at home,” replied Cecil.  “He found so much county business waiting for him, that he had to go to Backsworth.”

      “It is the better opportunity for a little private caucus with you,” returned Lady Tyrrell, “before the meeting to-morrow.  I rather fancy the gentlemen have one of their own.”

      “Some are to dine here to-night,” said Cecil.

      “We ladies had better be prepared with our proposals,” said Lady Tyrrell.

      At the same time Frank drew near Miss Vivian with a large book, saying, “These are the photographs you wished to see.”

      He placed the book on the ottoman, and would thus have secured a sort of tête-à-tête; but Eleonora did not choose to leave Mrs Miles Charnock out, and handed her each photograph in turn, but could only elicit a cold languid “Thank you.”  To Anne’s untrained eye these triumphs of architecture were only so many dull representations of ‘Roman Catholic churches,’ and she would much rather have listened to the charitable plans of the other two ladies, for the houseless factory women of Wil’sbro’.

      The bazaar, Lady Tyrrell said, must be first started by the Member’s wife; and there should be an innermost committee, of not more than three, to dispose of stalls and make arrangements.

      “You must be one,” said Cecil.  “I know no one yet.”

      “You will, long before it comes off.  In fact, I am as great a stranger as yourself.  Ah! there’s an opportunity!” as the bell pealed.  “The Bowaters, very likely; I saw their Noah’s ark as I passed the Poynsett Arms, with the horses taken out.  I wonder how many are coming—worthy folks!”

      Which evidently meant insufferable bores.

      “Is there not a daughter?” asked Cecil.

      “You need not use the singular, though, by the bye, most of them are married.”

      “Oh, pray stay!” entreated Cecil, as there were signs of leave-taking.

      “I should do you no good.  You’ll soon learn that I am a sort of Loki among the Asagötter.”

      Cecil laughed, but had time to resume her somewhat prim dignity before the lengthened disembarkation was over, and after all, produced only four persons; but then none were small—Mrs. Bowater was a harsh matron, Mr. Bowater a big comely squire, the daughters both tall, one with an honest open face much like Herbert’s, only with rather less youth and more intelligence, the other a bright dark glowing gipsy-faced young girl.

      Eleonora Vivian, hitherto gravely stiff and reserved, to poor Frank’s evident chagrin, at once flashed into animation, and met the elder Miss Bowater with outstretched hands, receiving a warm kiss.  At the same time Mr. Bowater despatched Frank to see whether his mother could admit a visitor; and Lady Tyrrell observed, “Ah!  I was about to make the same petition; but I will cede to older friends, for so I suppose I must call you, Mr. Bowater—though my acquaintance is of long standing enough!”

      And she put on a most charming smile, which Mr. Bowater received with something inarticulate that might be regarded as a polite form of ‘fudge,’ which made Cecil think him a horribly rude old man, and evidently discomposed his wife very much.

      Frank brought back his mother’s welcome to the Squire; but by this time Eleonora and Miss Bowater had drawn together into a window, in so close and earnest a conversation that he could not break into it, and with almost visible reluctance began to talk to the younger sister, who on her side was desirous of joining in the bazaar discussion, which had been started again in full force; until there was a fresh influx of visitors, when Lady Tyrrell decidedly took leave with her sister, and Frank escorted them to their carriage, and returned no more.

      In the new shuffling of partners, the elder Miss Bowater found herself close to Anne, and at once inquired warmly for Miles, with knowledge and interest in naval affairs derived from a sailor brother, Miles’s chief friend and messmate in his training and earlier voyages.  There was something in Joanna Bowater’s manner that always unlocked hearts, and Anne was soon speaking without her fence of repellant stiffness and reserve.  Certainly Miles was loved by his mother and brothers more than he could be by an old playfellow and sisterly friend, and yet there was something in Joanna’s tone that gave Anne a sense of fellow-feeling, as if she had met a countrywoman in this land of strangers; and she even told how Miles had thought it right to send her home, thinking that she might be a comfort to his mother.  “And not knowing all that was going to happen!” said poor Anne, with an irrepressible sigh, both for her own blighted hopes, and for the whirl into which her sore heart had fallen.

      “I think you will be,” said Joanna, brightly; “though it must be strange coming on so many.  Dear Mrs. Poynsett is so kind!”

      “Yes,” said Anne, coldly.

      “Ah! you don’t СКАЧАТЬ