Alabama -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction; Domestic fiction; War stories
They left the carriage, and approached the groups of children gathered
on the edge of the water, and at sight of Felix, the little girl in
scarlet sprang to meet him, moving her slender fingers rapidly as she
conversed with him. She was an exceedingly lovely but fragile child,
apparently about Hattie's age; and as Edna watched the changing
expression of her delicate features, she turned to the nurse and asked:
"Is she an orphan?"
"Yes, miss; but she will never find it out as long as her uncle lives.
He makes a great pet of her."
"What is his name, and where does he live?"
"Mr. Douglass G. Manning. He boards at No.--Twenty-third street; but he
spends most of his time at the office. No matter what time of night he
comes home, he never goes to his own room till he has looked at Lila,
and kissed her good-night. Master Felix, please don't untie her hat,
the wind will blow her hair all out of curl."
For some time the children were much amused in watching the swans, and
when they expressed themselves willing to resume their drive, an
arrangement was made with Hannah to meet at the same place the ensuing
day. They returned to the carriage, and Felix said:
"Don't you think Lila is a little beauty?"
"Yes, I quite agree with you. Do you know her uncle?"
"No, and don't want to know him; he is too cross and sour. I have seen
him walking sometimes with Lila, and mamma has him at her parties and
dinners; but Hattie and I never see the company unless we peep, and,
above all things, I hate peeping! It is ungenteel and vulgar; only poor
people peep. Mr. Manning is an old bachelor, and very crabbed, so my
uncle Grey says. He is the editor of the--Magazine, that mamma declares
she can't live without. Look! look, Hattie! There goes mamma this
minute! Stop, Patrick! Uncle Grey! Uncle Grey! hold up, won't you, and
let me see the new horses!"
An elegant phaeton, drawn by a pair of superb black horses, drew up
close to the coupe, and Mrs. Andrews and her only brother, Mr. Grey
Chilton, leaned forward and spoke to the children; while Mr. Chilton,
who was driving, teased Hattie by touching her head and shoulders with
his whip.
"Uncle Grey, I think the bays are the handsomest."
"Which proves you utterly incapable of judging horseflesh; for these
are the finest horses in the city. I presume this is Miss Earl, though
nobody seems polite enough to introduce us."
He raised his hat slightly, bowed, and drove on.
"Is this the first time you have met my uncle?" asked Felix.
"Yes. Does he live in the city?"
"Why! he lives with us! Haven't you seen him about the house? You must
have heard him romping around with Hattie; for they make noise enough
to call in the police. I think my uncle Grey is the handsomest man I
ever saw, except Edwin Booth, when he plays 'Hamlet.' What do you say?"
"As I had barely a glimpse of your uncle, I formed no opinion. Felix,
button your coat and draw your shawl over your shoulders; it is getting
cold."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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