The discarded daughter; or, The children of the isleSouthworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
General
The discarded daughter; or, The children of the isle
Southworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
Chesapeake Bay Region (Md. and Va.) -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Maryland -- Fiction
Nettie, for her part, much as she loved Hugh, could not cry. She had
read too many fairy tales not to know how her own ought to end; and so
Nettie felt perfectly assured that by some dénouement at Mount Calm
every wish of her heart must be accomplished, most especially the
dearest wish of all, that of having her playmate always with her. So
they took leave. Hugh struck into a by-path, and walked off briskly
toward the store of Mr. Fig. And the carriage rolled on up through the
main street of the village and out over the country road that led over
the snow-covered hills and through the hollow to Mount Calm.
Arrived at Mount Calm they were met by General Garnet, who, receiving
little Nettie in his arms, pressed her fondly and carried her into the
house, followed by Miss Joe. Here, in the hall, he delivered the little
girl to the charge of a neatly-dressed “ladylike” mulatto girl with a
gray Madras turban on her head and a pair of heavy gold hoops in her
ears, telling her to take Miss Seabright to the chamber lately occupied
by Miss Garnet, and to prepare her for the breakfast table.
“And what’s your name?” asked Nettie, looking up with curiosity at the
gay mulatto.
“Nettie, my darling, she is Hero, your maid,” said General Garnet.
Hero took the hand of the child and was about to lead her up the great
staircase, when Nettie suddenly broke from her, and, exclaiming,
interrogatively: “This way?” sprang up the stairs like a squirrel.
Hero tripped after her, overtook her on the landing, and gently took her
hand, saying:
“Miss Seabright, young ladies oughtn’t to romp through a quiet house,
and race upstairs in that manner.”
“I know young ladies oughtn’t to, but I am a little gal.”
“You are a little lady, and should act like one. But here is your
chamber, Miss Seabright,” said Hero, opening the door of Elsie’s
beautiful room.
“Oh, how—how grand!” exclaimed Nettie, breaking from her maid, springing
into the midst of the apartment, and standing gazing, speechless with
admiration upon the splendor—for such they were to her—of the furniture.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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