New England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Villages -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
Kitty came to supper, looking so lovely that even these friends, who
knew and loved her beauty so well, marveled at it. The girls worshiped
openly; Rodney and Aristides heaved furtive sighs and cast shy glances
over their cocoa-cups. The elders noticed with silent joy that a little
pallor, a little drawn look about the sweet mouth, a little dark line
under the eyes, that had troubled their kind hearts, was gone from the
girl's face. She bloomed like one of her own June roses; her eyes shot
gay sparkles; her laughter sounded every note of joyous mirth--but alas!
for the girls! she said no word of dukes or coaches. At parting she
kissed Mrs. Chanter with special warmth, and lingered a moment at the
door looking at her host with shining eyes. "Would you mind if I kissed
you, too?" she asked: and Mr. Chanter went back to his books with
blurred spectacles and a lump in his throat. But Kitty made Rodney, her
proud escort, race her all the way home, and honestly, he had no idea a
girl could sprint like that.
Madam Flynt? That lady kept her own counsel in these days. She refused a
visit from Mrs. Sharpe, sending word that she was specially engaged. So
she was, up in her room, looking over her jewel-case, selecting certain
emeralds, and being very short with Miss Croly, who deemed it her duty
to touch lightly on the unwisdom (she did not say folly: the word would
be discourteous!) of persons in later life wearing other than the
simpler forms of jewelry. A chaste gold brooch, now----
It was intimated that when the lady's opinion was desired it would be
asked for, and the friends parted--for half an hour.
Mrs. Sharpe, failing of entrance at Madam Flynt's, rang at the door of
Ross House; continued to ring at intervals, for fifteen minutes, Kitty
being out; finally went round to the back door and knocked. The door was
opened three inches by Sarepta, a figure of granite.
"Oh, how do you do, Sarepta?" thus Mrs. Sharpe in honeyed tones. "I
think the front door bell must be out of order. I've been ringing and
ringing! Kitty at home?"
Kitty out: not likely to return before night. Sarepta attempted to close
the door, but the visitor slipped an adroit foot into the opening.
"How well you're looking, Sarepta! I declare I think I must come in and
make _you_ a little visit, he! he!"
She tried to push the door, wider, but it was held in an iron grip;
Sarepta, apparently, had not heard her remark.
"Ahem!" Mrs. Sharpe tried a new tack. "Expecting visitors, are you,
Sarepta?"
"Not as I know of!"
"Oh, I understand! _a_ visitor, I should have said. It's always well to
be exact. Well, all I called for was to say, if you wanted to _borrow_
anything, silver or the like of that, I hope you'll come to me, Sarepta.
Mr. Sharpe was part English, you know; his grandfather came from the
Provinces, and of course I'm acquainted with English ways. Perhaps I'd
better come in and talk it over----"
"Excuse me! _My bread is in the oven!_" said Sarepta Darwin.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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