Children of the Dear CotswoldsHarker, L. Allen (Lizzie Allen)
General
Children of the Dear Cotswolds
Harker, L. Allen (Lizzie Allen)
Cotswold Hills (England) -- Fiction
His mother did not answer, and to the child such silence seemed charged
with chilly omen. He did not ask her, as he longed to do, what she
exactly meant by a stainless gentleman. He was sure that in some
incomprehensible fashion the stainlessness of great-Uncle Ambrose
reflected unfavourably upon his father and resented it accordingly. He
was also sure that this enviable quality had nothing to do with personal
cleanliness, for there was no one in the whole world so clean and smart
as father. Why, when he drove to a distant meet, he wore "two
pinafores," one in front and one behind, to keep his leathers spotlessly
white; the said pinafores, by the way, doing much towards reconciling
Roger to the wearing of his bib at meals.
The nursery window was open and the soft spring rain whispered pleasant
things to the grass; but Roger did not listen. For the first time in
his life he was weighing evidence; and the worst of it was, that, do as
he would, the bulk of the evidence all went into one scale.
"They’re just as fond of _me_," he thought to himself, "but somehow
they’re never with me together." There were no jolly drives into the
town now—those drives in the high dog-cart when he would sit between
them rapturously thinking that never had little boy such resplendent
parents. Now, mother always went in the "bucket" with his little
sisters, and when father took him out driving, mother did not even come
and stand on the steps to wave them a farewell. She never sat on
father’s knee now, or called him a "ridiculous boy," or untied his
necktie, or rumpled his hair. She seemed always to sit as far off as
possible, and when she did look at her big, jolly husband, there was
that in her expression which Roger felt he would rather not understand.
The truth was that Roger the elder and Lettice his wife, having been at
one time rather demonstratively fond of one another, found it somewhat
difficult to keep up appearances since such time as began the state of
affairs their little son so deprecated. Lettice certainly flattered
herself upon the secrecy and dignity with which she attended to the
linen less well-bred people will sometimes insist upon hanging up to the
public gaze even before it has gone through the cleansing process, and
was quite unconscious that all the while her servants discussed the
affair exhaustively, her friends pronounced the position untenable, and
her little son grieved and wondered, casting about in his child mind for
some way of clearing an atmosphere which even he felt was so charged
with electricity as to be well-nigh intolerable.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account