Mary Seaham: A Novel. Volume 1 of 3Grey, Mrs. (Elizabeth Caroline)
General
Mary Seaham: A Novel. Volume 1 of 3
Grey, Mrs. (Elizabeth Caroline)
Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
He did not hear her noiseless approach over the velvet carpet; and she
had time at the same moment that she recognized the unchanged, almost
feminine beauty, of her cousin's handsome features, to remark no very
promising expression, namely, one of dissatisfaction and annoyance, to
be now seated on his countenance. It, however, brightened
instantaneously, when he became aware of Mary's presence; and with the
most affectionate cordiality, he advanced to meet and welcome her to
his house. Then seating her on an ottoman by his side, he made anxious
inquiries as to her journey and the wedding of her sister, slightly
touching upon other family matters, in which, as guardian and trustee to
his young cousins, he was concerned. And thus, for awhile, his attention
and thoughts seemed diverted from any previous cause of discontent. But
his powers of interest or politeness seemed at length exhausted. He
became evidently restless and fidgetty, cast sundry impatient, or as
Mary was more likely to interpret them, anxious glances towards the
window which commanded the same view across the park as she had been
lately contemplating, and finally rising from his seat, resumed his
former station near the chimney-piece, to watch, as Mary concluded, for
the arrival of his truant lady.
Mr. de Burgh had only alluded to his wife's absence during their
conversation, by casually mentioning her not having returned from her
drive; but Mary Seaham, after noticing with rising sympathy and
compassion, the increasing perturbation of her cousin's countenance, and
naturally attributing its origin to the tender solicitation of an
adoring husband, ventured, after a few minute's silence, in which Mr. de
Burgh had been too much absorbed in his own feelings for common
discourse, to express in her gentle voice, the hope, that he was not
uneasy at her cousin Olivia's remaining out so late.
"Uneasy? Oh no!" Mr. de Burgh exclaimed, aroused by the question, and
turning to the speaker with a careless laugh, "Oh, no, not in the least
uneasy! I suppose I shall have the pleasure of seeing her back between
this and bed-time. Oh no! My present cause of uneasiness is merely at
the thought that the dinner--for which about an hour ago I had
considerable appetite--must be, by this time, fit only for the dogs to
eat: and, also, that you"--he added, softening his voice of irony into
one of kind concern, observing probably, that his cousin looked pale,
grave, and exhausted, "that you, after your long journey, must be quite
faint for want of nourishment; but it is just like her," he continued,
in soliloquy, hastily walking to the window, "selfish, inconsiderate,
careless of everybody, everything, but her own pleasure and amusement.
But at all events," he added, "we'll have dinner, such as it is," and
approaching the bell, he rang it impatiently, and desired that the
dinner should be immediately served.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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