Janice Meredith: A Story of the American RevolutionFord, Paul Leicester
History
Janice Meredith: A Story of the American Revolution
Ford, Paul Leicester
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
"You should discipline it," advised Miss Meredith, sagely.
"When I lose my temper, I always read a chapter in the
Bible," she added, with a decidedly "holier than thou" in
her manner.
"How many times hast thou read the good book through,
Miss Janice?" asked Fownes, smiling, and Miss Meredith's
virtuous pose became suddenly an uncomfortable one to the
young lady.
"You were to tell me something about Mr. Meredith,"
she said stiffly.
"After burning the Pope and the bill, 't was suggested by
some to empty the pot of tar on the fire. But objection was
made, because
"Because?" questioned Janice.
"Someone said 't would be needed shortly to properly
season green wood, and therefore must not be wasted."
"You don't think they--?" cried Janice, in alarm.
The servant nodded his head. "The feeling against the
squire is far deeper than you suspect. 'T will find vent in
some violence, I fear, unless he yield to public sentiment."
"He'll never truckle to the country licks and clouted
shoons of Brunswick," asserted Janice, proudly.
"'T will fare the worse for him. 'T is as sensible to run
counter to public opinion as 't is to cut roads over mountains."
"'T is worse still to be a coward," cried Janice, contemptuously.
"I fear, Charles, you are very mean-spirited."
Fownes shrugged his shoulders. "As a servant should be,"
he muttered bitterly.
"Even a servant can do what is right," answered the
girl.
"'T is not a question of right, 't is one of expediency," replied
the bondsman. "A year at court, Miss Janice, would
teach you that in this world 't is of monstrous importance to
know when to bow."
"What do you know of court?" exclaimed Janice.
"Very little," confessed the man. "But I know it teaches
one good lesson in life,--that of submission,--and an important
thing 't is to learn."
"I only bow to those whom I know to be my superiors,"
said Janice, with her head held very erect.
"'T is an easy way for you to avoid bowing," asserted the
groom, smiling.
Again Janice sought a change of subject by saying, "Think
you that is why we are being spied upon?"
"Spied?" questioned the bondsman.
"Last week dadda thought he saw a face one evening at the
parlour window, and two nights ago I looked up suddenly and
saw--Well, mommy said 't was only vapours, but I know I
saw something."
The servant turned his face away from Janice, and coughed.
Then he replied, "Perhaps 't was some one watching you.
Didst make no attempt to find him?"
"Dadda went to the window both times, but could see
nothing."
"He probably had time to hide behind the shrubs," surmised
Charles. "I shall set myself to watching, and I'll
warrant to catch the villain at it if he tries it again." From
the savageness with which he spoke, one would have inferred
that he was bitterly enraged at any one spying through the
parlour window on Miss Meredith's evening hours.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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