Philip Winwood: A Sketch of the Domestic History of an American Captain in the War of Independence; Embracing Events that Occurred between and during the Years 1763 and 1786, in New York and London: written by His Enemy in War, Herbert Russell, Lieutenant in the Loyalist Forces.Stephens, Robert Neilson
History
Philip Winwood: A Sketch of the Domestic History of an American Captain in the War of Independence; Embracing Events that Occurred between and during the Years 1763 and 1786, in New York and London: written by His Enemy in War, Herbert Russell, Lieutenant in the Loyalist Forces.
Stephens, Robert Neilson
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
Margaret raised her glance from the floor, in a kind of wistful
leave-taking, to us who looked on and pitied her.
"Indeed, sir," began Mr. Cornelius softly, rising and taking a step
toward Mr. Faringfield. But the latter cut his good intention short,
by a mandatory gesture and the harshly spoken words:
"No protests, sir; no intercessions. I am aware of what I do."
"But at midnight, sir. Think of it. Where can she find shelter at this
hour?"
"Why," put in my mother, "in my house, and welcome, if she _must_
leave this one."
"Thank you, Mrs. Russell," said Margaret, in a stricken voice. "For
the time being, I shall be glad--"
"For all time, if you wish," replied my mother. "And we shall have
your things moved over tomorrow."
"By the Lord, sis," cried Ned, with a sudden friendliness quite
astonishing after the part he had taken, and to be accounted for only
by the idea that had struck him, "here's a blessing in disguise!
There's a ship sails next Wednesday--so I found out this evening--and
damn me if you sha'n't go to London with me! That's the kind of a
forgiving brother I am!"
She had utterly ignored his first words, but when he reached the
point, she looked at him thoughtfully, with a check upon her
resentment. She made no reply, however; but he had not missed her
expression. Tom and I exchanged side glances, remembering Ned's former
wish that he might imitate his Irish friend by taking his sister to
London to catch a fortune with. As for Margaret, as matters stood, it
would be something to go to London, relying on her beauty. I fancied I
saw that thought in her look.
Mr. Faringfield, who had heard with cold heedlessness my mother's
offer and Ned's, now rang the bell. Noah appeared, with a sad,
affrighted face--he had been listening at the door--and cast a furtive
glance at Margaret, in token of commiseration.
"Bring Mrs. Winwood's cloak," said Mr. Faringfield to the old negro.
"Then open the door for her and Mr. Edward."
While Noah was absent on this errand, and Margaret waited passively,
Tom went to her, kissed her cheek, and then came away without a word.
"You'll accept Mrs. Russell's invitation, dear," said Mrs.
Faringfield, in tears, "and we can see you every day."
"Certainly, for the present," replied Margaret, who did not weep, but
spoke in a singularly gentle voice.
"And I, too, for to-night, with my best thanks," added Ned, who had
not been invited, but whom my mother preferred not to refuse.
Noah brought in the cloak, and placed it around Madge with an unusual
attentiveness, prolonging the slight service to its utmost possible
length, and keeping an eye for any sign of relenting on the part of
his master.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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