Gifts of Genius: A Miscellany of Prose and Poetry by American Authors
General
Gifts of Genius: A Miscellany of Prose and Poetry by American Authors
American literature; Gift books
Annie blushed, and looked very proud and offended, and it pained me to see
that she suffered for her harmless and, careless speech. I begged her not
to think that my feelings were wounded, and bowing again, went up to my
room. I looked at my coat, it _was_ terribly shabby, and I revolved the
propriety of purchasing another, but I gave up the idea with a sigh. She
needs all my money, and my mind is made up; she _shall_ have the black
silk, and very soon.
I very nearly forgot to relate what followed the little scene on the
portico. During all that evening, and the whole of the next day, Annie
scarcely looked at me, and retained her angry and offended expression. I
was pained, but could add nothing more to my former assurance that I was
not offended.
Toward evening, I was sitting with a book upon the portico, when Annie
came out of the parlor. She paused on the threshold, evidently hesitated,
but seemed to resolve all at once, what to do. She came quickly to my
side, and holding out her hand said frankly and kindly, with a little
tremor in her voice, and a faint rose-tint in the delicate cheeks:
"I did not mean to hurt your feelings, Mr. Cleave, indeed I did not, sir;
my speech was the thoughtless rudeness of a child. I am sorry, very sorry
that I was ever so ill-bred and unkind; will you pardon me, sir?"
I rose from my seat, and bowed low above the white little hand which lay
in my own, slightly agitated,--
"I have nothing to pardon, Miss Annie," I said, "if you will let me call
you by your household name. I think it very fortunate that my coat was
shabby; had it been a new one, you would never have observed it, and I
should have lost these sweet and friendly accents."
And that is the "incident of the coat."
IV.
The week that has just passed has been a pleasant one. I have thought, a
hundred times, "how good a thing it is to live!"
I must have been a good deal cramped and confined in the city; but I enjoy
the fair landscapes here all the more. The family are very friendly and
kind--except Mrs. Barrington, who does not seem to like me. She scarcely
treats me with anything more than scrupulous courtesy. The squire and
Annie, however, make up for this coldness. They are both extremely
cordial. It was friendly in the squire to give me this mass of executorial
accounts to arrange. So far it has been done to his entire satisfaction;
and the payment for my services is very liberal. How I long for money!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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