American fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, American
“You’re daft on the subject of red hair. Her hair’s not
carrot-colour, if you come to that. But there’s plenty of red in it,
burning through it. The red is managed with discretion—suggestively.
And did you notice her eyes? She has remarkably nice eyes—eyes with
an expression. I thought her eyes and mouth were charming when she
smiled,” the pale man affirmed.
“When she smiled? I didn’t see her smile,” reflected Hilary.
“Of course she smiled—when we bowed,” his friend reminded him.
“Oh, Ferdinand Augustus,” Hilary remonstrated, “will you never
learn to treat words with some consideration? You call that smiling!
Two men take off their hats, and a woman gives them just a look of bare
acknowledgment; and Ferdinand Augustus calls it smiling!”
“Would you have wished for a broad grin?” asked Ferdinand Augustus.
“Her face lighted up most graciously. I thought her eyes were
charming. Oh, she’s certainly a good-looking woman, a distinctly
handsome woman.”
“Handsome is that handsome does,” said Hilary.
“I miss the relevancy of that,” said Ferdinand Augustus.
“She’s a trespasser.’.was you yourself flew in a passion about it
yesterday. Yesterday she was plucking the King’s roses; to-day she’s
feeding the King’s carp.”
“‘When the King’s away, the palace mice will play.’ I venture to
recall your own words to you,” Ferdinand remarked.
“That’s all very well. Besides, I spoke in jest. But there are
limits. And it’s I who am responsible. I’m the Constable of
Bellefontaine. Her trespassing appears to be habitual, We’ve caught
her at it ourselves, two days in succession. I shall give instructions
to the keepers to warn her not to touch a flower, nor feed a bird,
beast, or fish, in the whole of this demesne. Really, I admire the cool
way in which she went on tossing bread-crumbs to the King’s carp under
my very beard!” exclaimed Hilary, working himself into a fine state of
indignation.
“Very likely she didn’t know who you were,” his friend reasoned.
“And anyhow, your zeal is mighty sudden. You appear to have been
letting things go at loose ends for I don’t know how long; and all at
once you take fire like tinder because a poor woman amuses herself by
throwing bread to the carp. It’s simply spite: you’re disappointed
in the colour of her hair. I shall esteem it a favour if you’ll leave
the keeper’s instructions as they are. She’s a damned good-looking
woman; and I’ll beg you not to interfere with her diversions.”
“I can deny you nothing, Uncle,” said Hilary, by this time restored
to his accustomed easy temper; “and therefore she may make hay of
the whole blessed establishment, if she pleases. But as for her good
looks—that, you’ll admit, is entirely a question of taste.”
“Ah, well, then the conclusion is that your taste needs
cultivation,” laughed Ferdinand. “By-the-bye, I shall be glad if you
will find out who she is.”
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.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account