Mrs. Severn: A Novel, Vol. 1 (of 3)Carter, Mary Elizabeth
General
Mrs. Severn: A Novel, Vol. 1 (of 3)
Carter, Mary Elizabeth
Fiction
Her voice had been growing hurried and faltering. She now broke off
abruptly, and at the same moment, swiftly transferring the parasol from
one shoulder to the other, interposed it between Anna and herself. It
struck Anna for the first time that she was not her usual self. Could it
be possible that she had been mistaken, that she had been drinking? The
dreadful fear died at birth, however. She felt convinced that she had
not. Something was wrong, though. Whatever else she was, she was never
incoherent in speech. What had Mrs. Hennifer and Miss Marlowe to do with
her except in the ordinary course of a call and small-talk?--but she was
speaking again.
'Really, I don't think I can endure Prissy's flock mattress in this
heat, and I am certain this bog smells,' she said, again turning and
looking at Anna.
'I am certain it does. Bogs always do under quick evaporation.'
'You are very scientific, as dry as it will be if the heat lasts. Any
one coming into this malarious sort of air might soon have a fever.'
Anna's face was momentarily settling into sternness.
'You must sit in the house, Clothilde. Hartas will keep fever out by
smoking bad tobacco, drinking gin, and eating onions.'
'I sit upstairs, Anna, and it has always been very cosy. But since I was
here they have taken off the thatch and actually slated the roof, and
slates attract the sun to a frightful degree.'
'In fact Old Lafer is so much more comfortable that you will return to
it,' said Anna in a stifled voice.
Mrs. Severn was not looking at her or she would have been warned of what
was impending. As it was she smiled indulgently.
'Don't let us quarrel, Anna. You know I have only very limited means
at my disposal for doing as I like. I always think you should all be
thankful I come here instead of going to Wonston, which would cause so
much more scandal.'
She put her hand on her arm as she spoke, half confidingly, half as a
help in walking, for she now turned to the cottage.
But Anna shook it off as though she were stung, and started back, fixing
on her a look of repugnant mistrust.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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