Love and Life: An Old Story in Eighteenth Century CostumeYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
General
Love and Life: An Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
English fiction -- 19th century
“Do you know who I am, miss? I am the Lady Bella Mar. The Countess
of Aresfield is my mamma. I shall have Battlefield when she dies, and
twenty thousand pounds on my wedding day. The Earl of Aresfield and
Colonel Mar are my brothers, and a wretched little country girl like
you is not to come between me and what my mamma has fixed for me; so you
must give it up at once, for you see he belongs to me.”
“Not yet, madam,” said Aurelia.
“What do you say? Do you pretend that your masquerade was worth a
button?”
“That is not my part to decide,” said Aurelia. “I am bound by it, and
have no power to break it.”
“You mean the lawyers! Bless you, they will never give it to you against
me! You’d best give it up at once, and if you want a husband, my mamma
has one ready for you.”
“I thank her ladyship,” said Aurelia, with simple dignity, “but I will
not give her the trouble.”
She glanced at her wedding ring, and so did Lady Belle, who screamed,
“You’ve the impudence to wear that! Give it to me.”
“I cannot,” repeated Aurelia.
“You cannot, you insolent, vulgar, low”--
“Hush! hush, my lady,” entreated Loveday. “Come away, I beg of your
ladyship!”
“Not till I have made that impudent hussy give me that ring,” cried
Belle, stamping violently. “What’s that you say?”
“That your ladyship asks what is impossible,” said Aurelia, firmly.
“Take that then, insolent minx!” cried the girl, flying forward and
violently slapping Aurelia’s soft cheeks, and making a snatch at her
hair.
Loveday screamed, Letty cried, but Fidelia and Bob both rushed forward
to Aurelia’s defence, one with her little fists clenched, beating Lady
Belle back, the other tearing at her skirts with his teeth. At that
moment a man’s step was heard, and a tall, powerful officer was among
them, uttering a fierce imprecation. “You little vixen, at your tricks
again,” he said, taking Belle by the waist, while she kicked and
screamed in vain. She was like an angry cat in his arms. “Be quiet,
Belle,” he said, backing into the sitting-room. “Let Loveday compose
your dress. Recover your senses and I shall take you home: I wish it was
to the whipping you deserve.”
He thrust her in, waved aside Loveday’s excuses about her ladyship
not being denied, and stood with his back to the door as she bounced
shrieking against it from within.
“I fear this little devil has hurt you, madam,” he said.
“Not at all, I thank you, sire.” said Aurelia, though one side of her
face still tingled.
“She made at you like a little game-cock,” he said. “I am glad I was in
time. I followed when I found she had slipped away from Lady Belamour’s,
knowing that her curiosity is only equalled by her spite. By Jove, it is
well that her nails did not touch that angel face!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account