Nuttie's FatherYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
General
Nuttie's Father
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Yes. I believe I seemed surprised at such a medium being employed, for
Uncle Alwyn explained that the man had got hold of the secret
somehow--servants always know everything--and being a foreigner he was
likely to be able to trace her out.
'I daresay he profited by the knowledge to keep Alwyn in bondage during
the old man's lifetime.'
'I have no doubt of it, and he expected to play the same game with me.
The fellow reminds me, whenever I look at him, of a sort of incarnate
familiar demon. When I asked my uncle whether he could guess what had
become of her, he held up his hands with a hideous French grimace. I
could have taken him by the throat.'
'Nay, one must pity him. The morals of George IV.'s set had been
handed on to him by the General,' said Lady Kirkaldy, rejoicing in the
genuine indignation of the young face, free from all taint of vice, if
somewhat rigid. 'And what now?'
'He assured me that he could make all secure to my father and me, as if
that were the important point; but finally he perceived that we had no
right to stand still without endeavouring to discover whether there be
a nearer heir, and my father made him consent to my making the search,
grinning at its Quixotism all the time.'
'Have you done anything?'
'Yes. I have been to Jersey, seen the register--July 20, 1859--and an
old French-speaking clerk, who perfectly recollected the party coming
from the yacht, and spoke of her as tres belle. I have also
ascertained that there is no doubt of the validity of the marriage.
Then, deeply mistrusting Master Gregorio, I went on to Dieppe, where I
entirely failed to find any one who knew or remembered anything about
them--there is such a shifting population of English visitors and
residents, and it was so long ago. I elicited from my uncle that she
had an aunt, he thought, of the same name as herself; but my father
cannot remember who recommended her, or anything that can be a clue.
Has any one looked over my grandmother's letters?'
'I think not. My brother spoke of keeping them till I came to London.
That might give a chance, or the Houghtons might know about her. I
think my husband could get them hunted up. They are sure to be at some
continental resort.'
'What's that?' as a sound of singing was heard.
'"Auld Langsyne." The natives are picnicking in the ravine below
there. They used to be rigidly excluded, but we can't stand that; and
this is the first experiment of admitting them on condition that they
don't make themselves obnoxious.'
'Which they can't help.'
'We have yet to see if this is worse than an Austrian or Italian
festival. See, we can look down from behind this yew tree. It really
is a pretty sight from this distance.'
'There's the cleric heading his little boys and their cricket, and
there are the tuneful party in the fern on the opposite side. They
have rather good voices, unless they gain by distance.'
'And there's a girl botanising by the river.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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