Dynevor Terrace; Or, The Clue of Life — Volume 2Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
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Dynevor Terrace; Or, The Clue of Life — Volume 2
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Cousins -- Fiction; Domestic fiction; English fiction -- 19th century; Upper class -- England -- Fiction
'Now,' cried James, 'is it in the nature of things that she should live
in such society as Mrs. Walby's and Mrs. Richardson's? People who call
her Mrs. James!'
'Such a queen as she looks among them!' said Clara.
'One comfort is, they don't like that,' said James. 'Even Mrs. Calcott
is not flattered by her precedence. I hope we shall soon be dropped
out of their parties. As long as I do my duty by their sons, what
right have they to impose the penance of their society on my wife? All
the irksomeness of what she has left, and none of the compensations!'
'Blissful solitude' said Louis, 'thereto I leave you.'
'You are not going yet! You mean to dine here?' was the cry.
'My dear friends,' he said, holding up his hands, 'if you only knew how
I long to have no one to speak to!'
'You crying out for silence!' exclaimed James.
'I am panting for what I have not had these five months--space for my
thoughts to turn round.'
'Surely you are at liberty to form your own habits!' said James.
'I am told so whenever my father sees me receive a note,' said Louis,
wearily; 'but I see that, habituated as he is to living alone, he is
never really at ease unless I am in the way; so I make our hours agree
as far as our respective treadmills permit; and though we do not speak
much, I can never think in company.'
'Don't you have your rides to yourself?'
'Why, no. My father will never ride enough to do him good, unless he
wants to do me good. People are all surprised to see him looking so
well; the country lanes make him quite blooming.'
'But not you, my poor boy,' said his aunt; 'I am afraid it is a sad
strain.'
'There now, Aunt Kitty, I am gone. I must have the pleasure of looking
natural sometimes, without causing any vituperation of any one beyond
seas.'
'You shall look just as you please if you will only stay. We are just
going to dinner.'
'Thank you, let me come to-morrow. I shall be better company when I
have had my sulk out.'
His aunt followed him to the stairs, and he turned to her, saying,
anxiously, 'No letter?' She shook her head. 'It would be barely
possible,' he said, 'but if it would only come while I am at home in
peace!'
'Ah! this is sadly trying!' said she, parting his hair on his brow as
he stood some steps below her, and winning a sweet smile from him.
'All for the best,' he said. 'One thing may mitigate another. That
political whirlpool might suck me in, if I had any heart or hopes for
it. And, on the other hand, it would be very unwholesome to be left to
my own inertness--to be as good for nothing as I feel.'
'My poor dear boy, you are very good about it. I wish you could have
been spared.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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