Boardinghouses -- Juvenile fiction; London (England) -- Juvenile fiction; Love stories; Mothers and daughters -- Juvenile fiction
"I am sorry, Madam, but I would rather no one saw it. It mentions my
friend, and of course my friend would not like his name to get out, so
I must keep the letter private, but if Mr. Randolph makes himself in
any way disagreeable to you ladies I am sure he will go immediately,
but my impression is that you will find him a great acquisition. I
will write to him to-night, and say that he can have the accommodation
he requires, and ask him to name the day when he will arrive."
After this we had a great deal of talk on other matters, and finally
Jane retired to her premises, and mother and I sat together in the
beautiful drawing-room.
"Well, Westenra," said mother, "it is done. What do you think of it?"
"It has only begun, mother dear. Up to the present I am charmed. What
a treasure we have secured in Jane."
"It is all very queer," said mother. "Why would not she show us Mr.,
Mr.----what was his name, Westenra?"
"Randolph," I interrupted.
"Why would she not show us Mr. Randolph's letter? I must say frankly
that I do not like it. The fact is, West, we are not in the position
we were in at Sumner Place, and we must be exceedingly circumspect.
You, for instance, must be distant and cold to all the men who come
here. You must be careful not to allow any one to take liberties with
you. Ah, my child, did we do wrong to come? Did we do wrong? It is
terrible for me to feel that you are in such an equivocal position."
"Oh but, mother, I am not. I assure you I can look after myself; and
then I have you with me, and Jane Mullins is such a sturdy little
body. I am sure she will guide our ship, our new, delightful ship,
with a flowing sail into a prosperous harbour; and I cannot see,
mother, why we should not receive a man who is a real gentleman. It is
the men who are not gentlemen who will be difficult to deal with. Mr.
Randolph will probably be a great help to us, and for my part I am
glad he is coming."
"Things are exactly as I feared," said mother, and I saw her anxious
eyes look across the room as though she were gazing at a vision which
gave her the greatest disquietude.
Early the next day I hung father's picture in such a position in the
drawing-room that mother could have the eyes following her wherever
she turned. She often said that she was never comfortable, nor quite
at home, unless under the gaze of those eyes, and we made up our minds
not to mind the fact of our new boarders asking questions about the
picture, for we were intensely proud of my father, and felt that we
could say in a few dignified words all that was necessary, and that my
dear father would in a measure protect us in our new career.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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