Humorous stories; Love stories; Villages -- Fiction
Ralph was quite sure that Dora's deductions were correct, for when Miriam
happened to drop asleep in a chair in the evening, it was her habit, when
aroused, to get up and go to bed, too sleepy to think about anything
else; but he did not think it was funny now. He was mortified that Miss
Bannister should have been treated with such apparent disrespect, and he
began to apologize for his sister.
"Now, please stop, Mr. Haverley," interrupted Dora. "I am so glad to have
her act so freely and unconventionally with me, as if we had always been
friends. It makes me feel almost as if we had known each other always,
and it does not make the slightest difference to me. Miriam wanted to
give me another room, but I implored her to let me sleep with her in that
splendid high-posted bedstead, and so all that I have to do is to slip up
to her room, and, if I can possibly help it, I shall not waken her. In
the morning I do not believe she will remember a thing about having gone
to bed without me. So good-night, Mr. Haverley. I am going to be up very
early, and you shall see what a breakfast the new cook will give you. I
will light this candle, for no doubt poor Miriam has put out her lamp, if
she did not depend entirely on the moonlight. By the way, Mr. Haverley,"
she said, turning toward him, "is there anything I can do to help you in
shutting up the house? You know I am maid of all work as well as cook.
Perhaps I should go down and see if the kitchen fire is safe."
"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Ralph; "I attend to all those things,--at least,
when we have no servant."
"But doesn't Miriam help you?" asked Dora, taking up the candle which she
had lighted.
"No," said he; "Miriam generally bids me good-night and goes upstairs an
hour before I do."
"Very well," said Dora; "I will say only one more thing, and that is that
if I were the lord of the manor, who had been working in the hay-field
all day, I would not sit up very long, waiting for a wandering doctor."
Ralph laughed, and as she approached the door of the stairway, he opened
it for her.
"Suppose," she said, stopping for a moment in the doorway, and shielding
the flame of the candle from a current of air with a little hand that
was so beautifully lighted that for a moment it attracted Ralph's eyes
from its owner's face, "you wait here for a minute, and I will go up and
see if she is really safe in her own room. I am sure you will be better
satisfied if you know that."
Ralph looked his thanks, and softly, but quickly, she went up the stairs.
At a little landing she stopped.
"Do you know," she whispered, looking back, with the candle throwing her
head and hair into the prettiest lights and shadows, "I think this
stairway is lovely;" and then she went on and disappeared.
In a few minutes she leaned over the upper part of the banisters and
softly spoke to him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account