Henrietta's Wish; Or, DomineeringYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
General
Henrietta's Wish; Or, Domineering
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Domestic fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Not mind it! The impression thus conveyed to one but too willing to
receive it, was that Uncle Geoffrey, that external conscience, thought
him excused from attending to unreasonable prohibitions. Away went all
the wholesome self-reproach which he had begun to feel, away went all
fear of Uncle Geoffrey’s eye, all compunction in meeting his mother,
and he entered the dining-room in such lively spirits that his uncle
was vexed to see him so unconcerned, and his mother felt sure that her
entreaty had not been disregarded. She never heard to the contrary, for
she liked better to trust than to ask questions, and he, like far too
many boys, did not think concealment blameable where there was no actual
falsehood.
All the time they were at table, Queen Bee was in one of her states of
wild restlessness, and the instant she was at liberty she flew away,
and was seen no more that afternoon, except in certain flittings into
different apartments, where she appeared for a moment or two with some
extraordinary and mysterious request. First she popped upon grandpapa,
and with the expense of a little coaxing and teasing, obtained from him
the loan of his Deputy-Lieutenant’s uniform; then she darted into the
drawing-room, on hearing Uncle Roger’s voice, and conjured him not to
forget to give a little note to Alex, containing these words, “Willy
must wear his cap without a peak. Bring Roger’s dirk, and above all,
beg, borrow, or steal, Uncle Roger’s fishing boots.” Her next descent
was upon Aunt Mary, in her own room: “Aunt, would you do me a great
favour, and ask no questions, nor tell Henrietta? Do just lend me the
three little marabout feathers which you had in your cap yesterday
evening. Only for this one evening, and I’ll take great care.”
“I am sure, my dear, you are very welcome to them; I do not feel like
myself in such finery,” said Mrs. Frederick Langford, smiling, as
Beatrice took possession of the elegant little white cap, which she had
the discretion to carry to Bennet, its lawful protector, to be bereft
of its plumed honours. Bennet, an old friend of nursery days, was in
the secret of her plans for the evening; her head-quarters were in the
work-room, which had often served her as a playroom in days gone by, and
Judith, gratified by a visit from “Miss Bee,” dived for her sake into
boxes and drawers, amid hoards where none but Judith would have dared to
rummage.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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