Playing with Fire: A Story of the Soudan WarGrant, James
General
Playing with Fire: A Story of the Soudan War
Grant, James
Sudan -- Fiction
Next morning Annot was in the garden betimes, natheless the fatigue
of her long railway journey; she seemed bright as a summer butterfly,
inhaling the fresh odour of the flowers, under the shady trees, amid
the rhododendrons of every brilliant tint, the roses and sub-tropical
plants that opened their rich petals to the August sunshine, and more
than all did she seem to enjoy the fresh, soft breeze that came up
the steep winding glen or ravine through which the Esk ran gurgling;
and ever and anon she glanced at her companion Roland, indulging in
that playful _gaîté de coeur_, which so often ends in disaster, for
she was a finished flirt to the tips of her dainty fingers; and he
was thinking, between the whiffs of his permitted cigar: What caused
his present emotion--this sudden attraction towards a girl whom he
had never seen before, and whose existence had been barely known to
him? And now she was culling a dainty 'button-hole' for him, and
making him select a bouquet for the breast of her morning dress, a
most becoming robe of light blue cashmere with ribbons and lace of
white.
Could it be that mysterious influence of which he had heard often,
and yet of which he knew so little--a current of affinity so subtle
and penetrating, that none under its spell could resist it? He was
not casuist enough to determine; but looked about for his cousin
Hester and muttered:
'Don't play the fool, Roland, my boy!'
Usually very diffident and reticent in talking about himself and his
affairs, even the gentle and winning Hester had failed, as she said,
to 'draw him out;' but now, Annot--the irrepressible Annot--led him
on to do so by manifesting, or affecting to manifest, a keen interest
in them, and thus lured him into flattering confidences to her alone
about his garrison life in England and the Mediterranean, or as much
as he cared to tell of it; his campaigns in Egypt; his escape from
the slaughter of Kashgate; his risks and wounds; his medals and
clasps; his regiment, comrades, and so forth, in all of which she
seemed suddenly to develop the deepest interest, though perhaps an
evil-minded person might have hinted that she had a deeper and truer
interest in Earlshaugh and its surroundings, of which he had no
conception as yet.
Hester quickly saw through these little manoeuvres, and at first she
laughed at them, thinking they were all the girl's way; that Roland
was the only young man at Merlwood; and so, by habit and nature, she
must talk to him, laugh with him, make _[oe]illades_ and dress for
him; and in dressing she was an adept, choosing always soft and
clinging materials of colours suited to her pure complexion and fair
beauty, and well she knew by experience already that 'love feeds on
suggestions--almost illusions,' as a French writer says; 'for the
greatest charm about a woman's dress is less what it displays than
what it only hints at;' and Annot had all that skill or taste in
costume which is a great speciality of London girls.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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