A Song of a Single Note: A Love StoryBarr, Amelia E.
General
A Song of a Single Note: A Love Story
Barr, Amelia E.
Fiction; Love stories
After a week's pleasure-seeking Maria returned home. It was in the
middle of a hot afternoon, and life was at its most languid pitch. The
Elder was asleep in his chair, Madame asleep on the sofa, and the
negroes dozing in the kitchen. Her entry aroused the house, her
personality instantly filled it. She was flushed and tired, but alive
with the egotistical spirit of youth. "Were you not expecting me?" she
asked with an air of injury, as she entered the drowsy, tidy house. "And
I do want a cup of tea so much, grandmother."
"You were coming Monday, and then you were coming Wednesday; we did not
know whether you would come to-day or not; but you are very welcome,
dear, and you shall have tea in ten minutes."
She went upstairs while it was preparing, took off her bonnet and her
silk coat, dashed cool water over her flushed face and shoulders and
arms, wet her hair and brushed it backward, and then put on a loose gown
of thin muslin. "Now I can drink my tea in comfort," she said, "and just
talk at my leisure. And dear me! What a week of tumult it has been!"
"Have you enjoyed your visits?" asked the Elder when she reappeared.
"So, so, grandfather," she answered; and as she spoke, she lifted the
small tea-table close to his side, and whispered on his cheek, "you will
have a cup of tea with me, dear grandfather, I shall not enjoy mine
unless you do." He said "pooh! pooh! child," but he was delighted, and
with beaming smiles watched her small hands busy among the china, and
the bread and meat.
"I am downright hungry," she said. "We had breakfast before leaving, but
that seems hours and hours ago, and, O grandmother! there is no tea and
bread like yours in all the world."
Then she began her long gossip concerning people and events: the water
parties on the river, the picnics in the woods, the dancing and
gambling and games in the house. "And I must tell you," she said, "that
really and truly, I was the most admired of all the beauties there. The
ladies all envied my frocks, and asked where I got them, and begged for
the patterns; and I wished I had taken more with me. It is so
exhilarating to have a new one for every evening. Lord Medway said every
fresh one became me better than the last."
"Lord Medway!" said the Elder. "Is he that long, lazy man that trails
after General Clinton like his shadow?"
"Well, they love each other. It seems funny for men to love one another;
but General Clinton and Lord Ernest Medway are like David and Jonathan."
"Maria Semple!" cried Madame, "I think you might even the like o'
Clinton and the English Lord, to some one o' less respectability than
Bible characters."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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