The Cuckoo in the Nest, v. 1/2Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The Cuckoo in the Nest, v. 1/2
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Fiction
The carriage swept along with an added impulse of curiosity and
expectation which seemed to thrill through from the men on the box, who
formed an impatient and excited gallery, eager to see what was going to
happen, to the calm, respectable horses, indifferent to such mere human
commotions, who probably were not aware why they were themselves made to
step out so much more briskly. The carriage reached the Seven Thorns at
an hour in the afternoon which was unusually quiet, and which had been
selected by Patty on that account for an expedition which she had to
make. She was coming out of her own door, when the two cobs drew up with
that little flourish which is essential to every arrival, even at a
humble house like that of the Seven Thorns, and stood there for a moment
transfixed, with a sudden leap of excitement in all her pulses at the
sight of the heavy old landau, which she, of course, knew as well as she
knew any cart in the village. Was it possible that it was going to stop?
It was going to stop! She stood on her own threshold almost paralysed,
stupefied--though at the same time tingling with excitement and energy
and wonder. My lady in her carriage, the great lady of the district! the
potentate whom Patty of the Seven Thorns, audacious, meant to succeed,
if not to supersede! The effect upon her for the first moment was to
make her knees tremble, and her strength fail; for the next, to brace
her up to a boldness unknown to her, though she had never before been
timid at any time.
“If you please, my lady,” said John, obsequious, yet with his eyes
dancing with excitement and curiosity, at the carriage door, “that is
Miss Hewitt of the Seven Thorns on the doorstep, if it is her your
ladyship wants. Shall I say your ladyship wishes to----”
“Look here! you’ve got to go off to the post-office at once to get me
some stamps. I’ll manage the rest for myself,” said Lady Piercey,
thrusting two half-crowns into the man’s hand. Poor John! with the drama
thus cut short at its most exciting moment! She waited till he had
turned his back, and then she waved her hand to Patty, still standing
thunderstricken on the threshold. “Hi!--here!” cried Lady Piercey, who
did not err in her communications with the country people round her on
the civil side.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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