Proper pride : A novel. Volume 2 (of 3)Croker, B. M. (Bithia Mary)
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Proper pride : A novel. Volume 2 (of 3)
Croker, B. M. (Bithia Mary)
English fiction -- Irish authors
“I am very sure that I am _not_, Regy. You will be grateful to me
some day, though now I daresay you think me a meddlesome, tiresome
busybody. You look awfully tired and fagged, so I won’t keep you up any
longer. Good-night!” she concluded, holding up her cheek to be kissed.
As the door closed on him, a triumphant smile broke over her face.
“_He_ is all right, at any rate. If Alice were as easily managed or
talked over all would be as it ought to be in no time. I am only sorry
I did not make this opportunity before,” said Mrs. Mayhew aloud, as she
turned to seek her well-earned repose, firmly persuaded that she had
achieved a triumph of _finesse_.
Sir Reginald kept his promise, and went down to Monkswood “solely in
the character of Alice’s guardian,” he kept telling himself. “Perverse
girl, _never_ would he own her as his wife, until she had made complete
submission,” and yet in his heart of hearts how ardently he longed
to see her! How he recurred again and again to what Miss Saville had
told Helen! If they met alone, who could tell but that she would
encircle his neck with her slim fair arms and whisper a petition for
forgiveness, for pardon--if she only knew how readily, how eagerly he
would grant it!
The nearest station to Monkswood was Manister, a cathedral and garrison
town five miles off. Here he procured a fly, and with Cox and a
portmanteau started without delay. Arrived at Monkswood, he told the
driver to go round to the yard and get refreshments for man and beast,
and desiring his servant to see that his old room was got ready, he
sprang up the steps. The hall-door was wide open, and he met Miss
Saville sallying forth in a large garden-hat, her hands protected by
chamois-leather gauntlets and her dress tucked up in a businesslike
manner. She was exceedingly astonished, and beckoning her nephew-in-law
into the library, overwhelmed him with questions. In reply to one of
his, she said that Alice was still far from robust, or as gay and happy
as she could wish to see her, but that she was wonderfully improved
since Miss Ferrars had been with her. “They were both in the grounds,
drinking tea under the cedar; should she go and prepare them?”
“No, certainly not; unless it would give Alice a shock; and he supposed
she knew that he was in England?”
“Yes, she heard of your arrival some days ago; but I think she scarcely
expected to see you here,” replied Miss Saville.
“Did she not? And why not, may I ask?”
“Do not inquire from me, Reginald; you and Alice are the best judges of
your own affairs. I have never interfered in any way, as you are aware.
Alice is the proper person to answer your question. Naturally, she is
deeply hurt; I can see that. You have never sent her one line since the
birth of your son; but I am not in her confidence.” A footman, who had
just entered, was quietly motioned away during this conversation, and
went downstairs in great excitement.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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