Christian life; Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Young women -- Conduct of life -- Fiction
She left the sentence unfinished; but my conscience filled up the pause.
'Indeed, my dear Miss Mortimer,' said I, for at that moment I was
thoroughly humbled, 'I never meant to go without your knowledge. Miss
Arnold will tell you that we have been all day contriving how we should
mention it to you.'
'Your word did not use to need confirmation,' said Miss Mortimer,
sighing heavily. 'I did hope,' continued she, 'that you would have
spared to me a part of this evening; for I have many things to say, and
this is the last----'
Miss Mortimer stopped, cleared her throat, bit her quivering lip, and
began industriously to arrange the drapery upon my shoulder; but all
would not do,--she burst into tears. I could not withstand Miss
Mortimer's emotion, and, throwing my arms round her neck,--'My dear,
dear friend,' I cried, 'be angry with me, scold me as much as you will,
only do not grieve yourself. If I could once have guessed that you were
to be ill to-night, I should never have thought of this vile ball; and I
am sure, if it will please you, I will send away the carriage, and stay
at home still.'
This proposal was perfectly sincere, but not very intelligible; for the
thought of such a sacrifice overpowered me so completely, that the last
words were choked with sobs. Miss Mortimer seemed at first to hesitate
whether she should not accept of my offer; but, after a few moments'
reflection, 'No, Ellen,' said she, 'I will not cause you so cruel a
disappointment; for surely--surely this masquerade has seized upon a
most disproportionate share of your wishes. You must soon be left to
your own discretion; and why should I impose an unavailing hardship? Go
then, my love, and be as happy as you can.'
My heart leapt light at this concession. 'Dear, good, kind Miss
Mortimer,' cried I, kissing her cheek, 'do not be afraid of me. I assure
you, I shall be more discreet and prudent this evening than ever I was
in my life.'
Miss Mortimer gave me an April smile. 'This is not much like the garb of
discretion,' said she, looking at my dress, which indeed approached the
utmost limit of fashionable allurement. 'It seems time that I should
cease to advise, else I should beg of you to make some little addition
to your dress. You may meet with people, even at a masquerade, who think
that no charm can atone for any defect of modesty; and I should imagine,
that your spirit would scarcely brook the remarks they might make.'
'I am sure,' said I, with a blush which owed its birth as much to pique
as to shame, 'I never thought of being immodest, nor of any thing else,
except to look as well as I could; but if it will please you, I shall
get a tucker, and let you cover me as much as you will.'
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