Harry Joscelyn; vol. 3 of 3Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
Harry Joscelyn; vol. 3 of 3
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Families -- England -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction
“I never knew you were so ill-natured before,” said Lydia in a plaintive
tone. “Poor Harry! he took me to the cabin-door; he thinks I am there
now. I came up afterwards--well--because it is hot there, because it is
such a lovely night, because the sea is so beautiful--look at that light
on it--and, then, because I thought you would perhaps think it civil to
come and say good night.”
“Ah, Liddy!” he cried, seizing her hand and drawing it through his arm,
“come and walk about a little. I thought I was never to have a chance of
saying a word to you to-night. I have been swearing at everything and
everybody.”
“I thought so,” said Liddy, with a little laugh, “from the expression of
your face.”
“And you laughed--at my torture----”
“Would you have had me cry? What could I do? I could not take you from
Sir John; and then you never looked as if you wanted to have anything to
say to us. Well,” said Lydia, stopping short, “now all the purposes of
civility are fulfilled, and we can say good night.”
But they had not said good night full two hours after, when the short
voyage was almost over, and the lights of Genoa stretching round the
whole breadth of the lovely bay in an ineffectual struggle with the
dawn, began to rise upon their dazzled eyes. Then after a little
struggle Lydia made her escape. “What will Lady Brotherton think? It
must be three o’clock in the morning, and how can I face her? She will
see it in my eyes, and she will not like it. Oh! why didn’t we think of
that sooner? They will not like it, neither she nor Sir John; for I am
nobody, Lionel.”
“Nobody? you are Liddy--that is enough; and then you forget,” he said,
with a slight sense of humour, “you are a Joscelyn.”
“Yes, that is true,” said Lydia, very gravely, “I am a Joscelyn; but we
are not at all what we used to be. Being Joscelyns,” she added,
mournfully, “we are rough country people.”
“You a rough country people! You are Liddy,” he said.
“Oh, what is the good of saying that over and over again! Liddy! what is
Liddy? an ugly old-fashioned name. We should have thought of that
sooner. They will not have me,” she said.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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