Margaret Capel: A Novel, vol. 2 of 3Wallace, Ellen
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Margaret Capel: A Novel, vol. 2 of 3
Wallace, Ellen
English fiction -- 19th century
"Stay, do not give her too much," said Mr. Haveloc, assisting in the
distribution of the shawl, "you must take care of yourself, in the
evening air."
"She has had so much running about to-day," said Margaret.
"Yes, I saw you taking her out to exercise this morning, before
breakfast."
"Did you? When we were on the lawn?"
"Yes, with that Indian-rubber ball you made her a present of."
"You laugh, but it is a capital ball for Gessina to play with."
"I thought Gessina and her mistress both seemed to enjoy it very much."
"I did not know you were up then, Mr. Haveloc."
"I had not left my room, I confess."
"How very idle!"
"Oh, it was! but then I had been sitting up half the night."
"What a strange fancy of yours."
"I was writing letters."
"What! with all the day before you?"
"I like to spend the day in your company."
Here a low growl that seemed hardly human, made both start violently.
Margaret dropped Gessina. Mr. Haveloc turned sharply round.
"Ugh! little woman; are you going to give us tea to-night?" growled Mr.
Casement.
"Oh, dear yes, Sir. I declare I did not know what time it was," said
Margaret hastily.
"There is not the slightest hurry," said Mr. Haveloc detaining Margaret
by the hand, "there can be no possible occasion for you to make tea
before the usual time."
Margaret looked up in deprecation of his contemptuous tone. Mr. Casement
turned to hobble back to the house.
"Ugh, sweethearts!" he grumbled, as he left them.
Margaret blushed crimson. Mr. Haveloc still holding her hand, walking
slowly and silently in the same direction. At last, in that calm voice
which in people of impatient temper always marks strong emotion, he
said:--
"He is right Margaret--I love you!"
Margaret was excessively agitated--she trembled violently; but the
transparent candour of her nature did not now desert her. In a faltering
tone she replied: "I thought so."
"Come along, little woman," said Mr. Casement as Margaret stepped in at
the window. "It is well I am come among you again. Poor uncle is laid on
the shelf now; that's very plain."
"Did I keep you waiting, uncle?" said Margaret softly as she took her
place before the urn.
"No, my love, never mind what he says. You know his ways by this time."
"Come, sit down, youngster, and don't make a fuss. Take it easy," said
Mr. Casement addressing Mr. Haveloc, who was behind Margaret's chair.
Margaret ventured to cast an imploring glance at Mr. Haveloc, who
regarded Mr. Casement as if he should like to reduce him to ashes; but
being unprovided with any apparatus for this ceremony, he sat down
beside Margaret, without making any reply.
It seemed as if Mr. Casement would never go that evening. He wrangled
through one game of piquet after another; at last he got up. "Well, good
night Master Grey," he said, "if you are blind-folded, I am not. Those
young ones have been muttering at the window there, ever since we sat
down to cards."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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