English fiction -- 19th century; Tailors -- Fiction
The scene on the other side of the fence would have been a sweet one to
the central figure in it had his eyes then been open. Surrounded by Lady
Jocelyn, Drummond, Seymour, and the rest, Evan's dust-stained body was
stretched along the road, and his head was lying in the lap of Rose, who,
pale, heedless of anything spoken by those around her, and with her lips
set and her eyes turning wildly from one to the other, held a gory
handkerchief to his temple with one hand, and with the other felt for the
motion of his heart.
But heroes don't die, you know.
CHAPTER XXI
TRIBULATIONS AND TACTICS OF THE COUNTESS
'You have murdered my brother, Rose Jocelyn!'
'Don't say so now.'
Such was the interchange between the two that loved the senseless youth,
as he was being. lifted into the carriage.
Lady Jocelyn sat upright in her saddle, giving directions about what was
to be done with Evan and the mare, impartially.
'Stunned, and a good deal shaken, I suppose; Lymport's knees are terribly
cut,' she said to Drummond, who merely nodded. And Seymour remarked,
'Fifty guineas knocked off her value!' One added, 'Nothing worse, I
should think'; and another, 'A little damage inside, perhaps.' Difficult
to say whether they spoke of Evan or the brute.
No violent outcries; no reproaches cast on the cold-blooded coquette;
no exclamations on the heroism of her brother! They could absolutely
spare a thought for the animal! And Evan had risked his life for this,
and might die unpitied. The Countess diversified her grief with a deadly
bitterness against the heartless Jocelyns.
Oh, if Evan dies! will it punish Rose sufficiently?
Andrew expressed emotion, but not of a kind the Countess liked a relative
to be seen exhibiting; for in emotion worthy Andrew betrayed to her his
origin offensively.
'Go away and puke, if you must,' she said, clipping poor Andrew's word
about his 'dear boy.' She could not help speaking in that way--he was so
vulgar. A word of sympathy from Lady Jocelyn might have saved her from
the sourness into which her many conflicting passions were resolving; and
might also have saved her ladyship from the rancour she had sown in the
daughter of the great Mel by her selection of epithets to characterize
him.
Will it punish Rose at all, if Evan dies?
Rose saw that she was looked at. How could the Countess tell that Rose
envied her the joy of holding Evan in the carriage there? Rose, to judge
by her face, was as calm as glass. Not so well seen through, however.
Mrs. Evremonde rode beside her, whose fingers she caught, and twined her
own with them tightly once for a fleeting instant. Mrs. Evremonde wanted
no further confession of her state.
Then Rose said to her mother, 'Mama, may I ride to have the doctor
ready?'
Ordinarily, Rose would have clapped heel to horse the moment the thought
came. She waited for the permission, and flew off at a gallop, waving
back Laxley, who was for joining her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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