The Following of the Star: A RomanceBarclay, Florence L. (Florence Louisa)
General
The Following of the Star: A Romance
Barclay, Florence L. (Florence Louisa)
Clergy -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Marriage -- Fiction; Missionaries -- Fiction
"Yesterday, however, being Christmas-day, I threw off my
maturity, just as one gleefully leaves off wearing kid
gloves at the seaside, and became an infant with the
infants. How we romped, and how delightfully silly we were!
After the midday Christmas dinner, as we all sat round at
dessert, I could see Mrs. Mallory eying me with amazed
contempt, because I wore the contents of my cracker--a fine
guardsman's helmet, and an eyeglass, which I jerked out,
and screwed in again, at intervals, to amuse the children.
When I surprised Mrs. Mallory's gaze of pitying scorn, I
screwed in the eyeglass for her especial benefit, and
looked at her through it, saying: 'Don't I wear it as if to
the manner born, Mrs. Mallory?' 'Oh, quite,' said Mrs.
Mallory, with an appreciative smile. 'Quite, my dear Mrs.
Rivers; quite.' Which was so very 'quite quite,' that
nothing remained but for me to fix on my guardsman's helmet
more firmly, and salute.
"Mrs. Mallory's cracker had produced a jockey cap, in green
and yellow, and it would have delighted the children if she
had worn it jauntily on her elaborately crimped coiffure.
But she insisted upon an exchange with a dear little girl
seated next her, who was feeling delightfully grown-up, in
a white frilled Marie Antoinette cap, with pink ribbons.
This, on Mrs. Mallory's head, except that it was made of
paper, was exactly what she might have bought for herself
in Bond Street; so she had achieved the conventional, and
successfully avoided amusing us by the grotesque. The
jockey cap was exactly the same shape as the black velvet
one I keep for the little girls to wear when they ride the
pony in the park. The disappointment on the face of the
small owner of the pretty mob-cap, passed quite unnoticed
by Mrs. Mallory. Yet she _adores_ children. I, who only
tolerate them, saw it. So did the oldest of the boys--such
a nice little fellow. 'I say, Mrs. Rivers,' he said,
'Swapping shouldn't be allowed.' 'Quite right, Rodney,'
said I. 'Kiddies, there is to be no swapping!' 'Surely,'
remarked Mrs. Mallory, in her shocked voice, 'no one
present here, would think of _swapping_?' Rodney said,
'Crikey!' under his breath; and I haven't a notion, to this
hour, what meaning the elegant verb 'to swap' holds for
Mrs. Mallory.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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