Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 22. October, 1878.Various
History
Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 22. October, 1878.
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Science -- Periodicals
Now she was not smiling. The air was heavy with the damp chill of early
spring; and as the countess absently surveyed a gravel-walk bordered by
limp brown grasses and a line of trees dripping last night's frost through
the fog, she saw a woman's figure emerge from the shadows and come slowly
up the walk. She was poorly dressed, and walked to the kitchen-door, where
the countess could see her carefully wipe her feet before rapping.
"That must be Bailey's wife," she thought: "I saw her waiting for him
yesterday when he came round to the shops for work.--William, my friend,
you are a nuisance."
With this comment she went to the kitchen. Lettice, the maid-of-all-work,
was frying cakes in solitude. "Mrs. Greymer had taken Mrs. Bailey into the
library," she told the countess with significant inflections.
The latter went to the library. It was a tiny, red-frescoed room fitted up
in black walnut. There were plants in the bay-window: Mrs. Greymer stood
among them, her soft gray wrapper falling in straight and ample folds
about her slender figure. Her face was turned toward the countess; a
loosened lock of black hair brushed the blue vein on her cheek; she held
some lilies-of-the-valley in her hand, and the gold of her wedding-ring
shone against the dark green leaves.
"She looks like one of Fra Angelico's saints," thought the countess: "the
crimson lights are good too."
She stood unnoticed in the doorway, leisurely admiring the picture. Mrs.
Bailey sat in the writing-chair on her right. Once, probably, she had been
a pretty woman, and she still had abundant wavy brown hair and large
dark-blue eyes with curling lashes; but she was too thin and faded and
narrow-chested for any prettiness now. Her calico gown was unstarched,
though scrupulously clean: she wore a thin blue-and-white summer shawl,
and her old straw bonnet was trimmed with a narrow blue ribbon pieced in
two places. Her voice was slightly monotonous, but low-keyed: as she spoke
her hands clasped and unclasped each other. The veins stood out and the
knuckles were enlarged, but they were rather white than otherwise.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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