Joscelyn Cheshire: A Story of Revolutionary Days in the CarolinasKennedy, Sara Beaumont
History
Joscelyn Cheshire: A Story of Revolutionary Days in the Carolinas
Kennedy, Sara Beaumont
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
Joscelyn shook her head. "That would not do; for without grief there
would be no pity, and without pity there would be no love, and life
without love were not worth the living."
"Love? What do you know of love?" Betty asked, looking up quickly.
"You vain little minx! do you think Cupid wasted all his arrows on you
and Eustace?"
"N-o; but Joscelyn--"
"'But, Joscelyn,'" mimicked the other, still laughing; "from the doubt
in your voice one would think you were own daughter to that biblical
Thomas whose faith was so small. Trust me, Cupid has saved a shaft in
his quiver for me."
"You are such a queer girl, Joscelyn; one never knows how to take you.
You sorrowed for Richard so vehemently at first--do you--can you mean
that you care just a little for him?"
"My dear, I was much more in love with Richard dead than I am ever like
to be with Richard alive. You see, Death is not unlike charity: it
covers a multitude of faults."
"You heartless creature!"
And Betty got up and took her frame to another window. But she could
never stay angry long, partly because of her gentle disposition, and
partly because she knew that much of Joscelyn's seeming heartlessness
was in truth but mischievous banter; and so their heads were close
together again very soon, while their needles wrought silken poppies or
blue-eyed violets into the meshes of canvas on their frames.
And while they thus talked and sewed, a horseman came galloping down the
streets. A great commotion followed in his wake; for he rode with a free
rein and so rapidly withal that his horse's hoofs struck sparks from the
loose stones of the street. Straight to Mistress Clevering's door he
went, and springing down stayed not to knock or parley, but entering
without ceremony and meeting the astonished lady in the hall, hugged
her with a will.
"Why--it is--Richard--Richard!"
Her voice was half choked with giving back his kisses, but it reached
the two girls in the parlour who, startled at first into silence, threw
down their needles and rushed headlong into the hall, and, before they
realized it, were kissed by the newcomer in a rapturous greeting.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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