A Girl in Spring-TimeVaizey, George de Horne, Mrs.
General
A Girl in Spring-Time
Vaizey, George de Horne, Mrs.
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Girls -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Schoolgirls -- Juvenile fiction
The more his mother wept, the louder Robbie roared. They clung together
sobbing and crying until the sound penetrated to the lower regions, and
the maid-of-all-work crept up the uncarpeted stair and listened, agape
with horror.
Then suddenly Mrs Moore shook Robbie off, bounded out of the room, and
called to the servant to run down the road to summon Mrs Ross to come
at once--at once, and to bring pencil and paper, so that she might write
down the words of a letter to be dictated from an upper window.
It was easy to see from whom Mildred had inherited her impetuosity.
Poor Mrs Ross was bewildered by the torrent of words which were hurled
at her head the moment she arrived. She was obliged to write four
separate letters before Mrs Moore was satisfied that she had said the
right thing in the right way.
The letter seemed fated to cause excitement from beginning to end. When
it arrived at The Deanery, Lady Sarah put up her eye-glasses to read it,
only to drop them a moment later with a cry of astonishment. She
gasped, and panted, and gasped, and panted again, while the other
occupants of the room stared aghast, not knowing what to make of such
behaviour.
"M-M-Mildred!" she cried, and when the girl advanced to her side, she
clasped her in a passionate embrace. "Mildred, Mildred, do you know who
you are? My own little niece--my grand-niece,--Mary's child! I knew
there was something familiar about you--I felt it! I have said so over
and over again, and now Mary writes,--poor Mary! You always spoke of me
as `Lady Sarah', and she never dreamt that it was I. She has been
living in the depths of the country and has never heard of my husband's
honours. She was unmarried when I saw her last--"
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" cried Mildred shrilly, clasping her hands together in
excitement, "It was you! You were the rich aunt! Oh, how dreadfully
romantic! Then you are my aunt, too. `Aunt Sarah!' Goodness me, who
would ever have dreamt of such a thing! And Mother says,--what does
Mother say?"
"She seems afraid, poor thing, that I shall try to take you from her, as
I wished to separate her from her parents long ago; but be satisfied,
Mildred, I have learned a lesson since those days. I shall not try to
take you from your mother!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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