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
But as she did not come,
after half-an-hour’s waiting Lionel resolved to act upon his own theory,
and accordingly set out on his volunteer mission, hoping that she might
have thought better of it, and was staying with dignity in her room,
however anxious she might be, waiting till he, her representative,
should bring her news. It was a pretty division of labour, and one that
fell in with all Lionel’s views.
CHAPTER XII.
ACTING FOR HERSELF.
But it is not to be supposed that Lydia, her whole being ablaze with
excitement and eagerness, was likely to assent to this masculine view of
what was best for her. Before Lionel had got downstairs into the hall,
where he waited so long to intercept any rash enterprise she might be
bound on, she had stolen out, tremulous yet brave, and was speeding
along the morning streets, where the passers-by, who gazed at her with
that frank admiration which Italians feel, without any impertinence of
meaning, to be the due of every pretty woman--excused, yet wondered at
her solitary progress, on the score that everything was to be pardoned
to an Englishwoman. Lydia herself was confused by the looks she met on
every side, but her mind was so entirely preoccupied that they made less
impression upon her than they would have done had it been at freedom,
and it did not occur to her that she was being guilty of any breach of
decorum. What troubled her more was that she was uncertain of the way,
having paid but little attention to it last night, and she was shy of
asking which turning to take. But by right of the inspiration that was
in her, and of that good fortune which attends daring, she at last found
herself in a street which she recognised, and saw with a beating heart
the well-known shield over the doorway. It was not to the official
entrance she was bound. She saw with a smile, even in the midst of all
the ferment of her agitation, the little Italian, her admirer of the
previous night, in light clothes and a cigar, making his way towards it;
and, lingering a moment till he disappeared within the doorway, she
hurried after him till she got safely within the shelter of the
courtyard and to the door of the Vice-Consul’s house.
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