The Duke of Stockbridge: A Romance of Shays' RebellionBellamy, Edward
General
The Duke of Stockbridge: A Romance of Shays' Rebellion
Bellamy, Edward
Shays' Rebellion, 1786-1787 -- Fiction
“Who knows,” said Mrs. Edwards, “what this ruffian may do next? He will
stop at nothing. He will not much longer respect our house. He may
force himself in any day. She is not safe here. I dare not have her stay
another day.”
“I don't know what can be done, she can't get away without a pass,”
replied Edwards. “It would do no good for me to ask him again. Perhaps
the girl herself might coax a pass out of him. It's the only chance.”
“I coax him! I see him again! Oh I can't, I can't do that,” cried Desire
with an air of overwhelming repugnance.
“I could leave the door ajar you know, Desire, and be ready to come into
the room if he were unmannerly,” said her mother. “I think he's rather
afraid of me. I'm afraid it's the only chance, as your father says, if
you could but bring yourself to it.”
“Oh it doesn't seem as if I could. It doesn't seem as if I could,” cried
the girl.
Perez did not come near the store for some days and it was on the street
that Edwards next met him. The storekeeper was very cordial and made no
further allusion to the pass. In the course of conversation he managed
to make some reference to Desire's piano, and the curiosity the people
seemed to feel about the novel instrument. He asked Perez if he had ever
seen it, and Perez saying no, invited him to drop in that evening and
hear Desire play a little. It is needless to say that the young man's
surprise at the invitation did not prevent his accepting it. It would
have melted the heart of his worst enemy to have seen how long he toiled
that afternoon trying to refurbish his threadbare coat so white in the
seams, and the rueful face with which he contemplated the result. On
presenting himself at the store soon after dusk, Edwards at once ushered
him into the parlor, and withdrew, saying that he must see to his
business.
Desire sat at the piano, no one else being in the room. She looked
rather pallid and thinner than when he had seen her last, but all the
more interesting for this delicacy. There was, however, a far more
striking alteration in her manner, for to his surprise she rose at
his entrance, and came forward with a smile to greet him. He was
delightfully bewildered.
“I scarcely know how to greet a Duke, for such I hear you are become,”
said Desire with a profound curtsy and a bewitching tone of badinage.
Entirely taken aback, he murmured something inarticulate, about her
piano.
“Would your grace like to have me play a little?” she asked, gaily.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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