That Unfortunate Marriage, Vol. 3Trollope, Frances Eleanor
General
That Unfortunate Marriage, Vol. 3
Trollope, Frances Eleanor
Social classes -- England -- Fiction
May had always understood that a special train was an immensely costly
matter. But in her ignorance she was by no means sure that it might not
be part of the privileges of a railway director to have special trains
run for his service gratis, whensoever he should require them. Which,
probably, was precisely what Mr. Bragg desired her to suppose.
He then called aside the attendant, and held a short colloquy with her
in the adjoining room, the result of which was to put the worthy Mrs.
Tupp into a great fuss and flutter. She dashed at a cupboard in the wall
and plunged her hand into it, drawing it out again with a battered old
black bonnet dangling by one string, as though she had been fishing at a
venture and brought up _that_ rather unexpectedly. Further, Mrs. Tupp,
with many apologies, took the checked shawl which had been laid over
May's feet and put it on her own shoulders; and then, assuring Mr.
Bragg, in a speech which it took some time to deliver, that she wouldn't
be gone not ten minutes, for her house was close by--better than half a
mile before you really come into Wendhurst High Street, going the
shortest way from the station--she finally disappeared.
"Now, Miss Cheffington," said Mr. Bragg, "I want you to do something to
oblige me. Will you?"
"Most gladly, if I can; but I'm afraid it will turn out to be something
to oblige _me_," answered May, looking up at him timidly. "Don't you
want some food? I dare say you do."
"Why, no, Miss Cheffington, I can't say I do; I ate a most uncommon
hearty luncheon. I wonder why people always eat so much when there's a
funeral going on! Besides, it isn't dinner-time yet, you know."
"Isn't it? I have no idea what o'clock it is. If you told me it was the
middle of next week, I don't think I should feel surprised," and she
smiled with one of her old, bright looks.
"That's right," said Mr. Bragg. "You're picking up. Well, now, I was
going to say that I noticed in the refreshment-room a cold roast fowl,
which didn't look at all nasty; no, really, not at all nasty," insisted
Mr. Bragg, with the air of one who is aware that his statement may not
unreasonably be received with incredulity. "And if you'll let them bring
it in here on a tray, and try to eat a bit of it, and drink another cup
of tea--no! I promise not to put any brandy in it,--I shall esteem it a
favour."
Of course there was no refusing this. But May said wistfully, "I was
going to ask you--would you mind--I have something to say to you; and if
I don't say it soon that woman will be here. She is coming back
immediately."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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