Kit and Kitty: A Story of West MiddlesexBlackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
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Kit and Kitty: A Story of West Middlesex
Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
Middlesex (England) -- Fiction
I am not at all certain what reply I made, being fluttered by the force
of habit in her stately presence. But she was better pleased by this,
than she would have been by any assumption of ease and self-command.
“Although I hear so little, a report has reached me,” she went on with
a smile which was not at all disdainful, “that you are about to marry
Kitty Fairthorn. If so, you are a wonderfully fortunate young man.”
“It would add very greatly to our happiness, madam,” I ventured to
say, though with some misgivings, “if you would be kind enough to give
us your good wishes. Miss Fairthorn has not been to call upon you,
because—because she was not sure that you would wish it. And she is
acting entirely without the consent of her step-mother, who is your
sister. I hope you will not think the worse of her for that. The lady
has never been very kind to her.”
“Kitty was quite right in not coming here; it would have placed me in
an unpleasant position. I have not seen much of my sister for years.
But I cannot enter into such matters. And you have done right in coming
to me thus. Certainly you both have my good wishes. And though Kitty
might have looked for a much higher marriage—I may say that without any
disrespect to you—I believe that she will be happier in a very simple
life. You will understand that I cannot be present—under the peculiar
circumstances. Neither will you expect me to receive Kitty here, when
she is Mrs. Orchardson; she is no relative of mine, and she has chosen
her own path. But I like her none the less, and you may tell her that.
She has plenty of proper pride, and would resent my patronage. I was
told that the wedding was to be to-day. Why have you put it off? You
are unwise.”
She looked as if she knew something which would alarm me, if declared;
but I did not presume to ask about it, and simply told her the cause of
the delay.
“You may expect him; but you will not see him,” she answered, as if she
knew more than we did; “don’t put it off another day, if you wish it to
be at all. But it is no affair of mine. Good morning to you.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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