The Honorable Miss: A Story of an Old-Fashioned TownMeade, L. T.
General
The Honorable Miss: A Story of an Old-Fashioned Town
Meade, L. T.
Small cities -- Juvenile fiction; Young women -- Juvenile fiction
"Nothing gives a lady such a nice feeling as being properly dressed,"
she murmured. "I am glad I went to the expense of a bit of pink silk to
make this ruching. It is wonderfully soft, and becoming, too. I hope
Martha won't object to the chrysanthemums. I chose the largest Perry had
in his shop on purpose, in order not to be accused of aping youth. Now,
my parasol, my gloves, my handkerchief. Oh, and my fan. I'm sure to
flush a little when I see that dear child being given away. Now I'm
quite ready. It certainly is an extraordinarily early hour to be dressed
for a wedding, which is not to take place till eleven o'clock."
"Maria!" screamed Mrs. Butler's voice. "If you're not quick, you'll not
have time to swallow your coffee."
"Dear, dear!" exclaimed Miss Peters, "is Martha's head going? I have not
been half-an-hour dressing; can she have mistaken the hour?"
The little spinster ran downstairs.
"Here I am, Martha. Really I--"
"Not a word, Maria. Sit down at once, and drink off your coffee. You can
munch a bit of bread in your hand as we go along."
"But, Martha, it is not six o'clock yet."
"What of that? We have not a moment to lose. There'll be crowds at the
church. I am given to understand it will be packed, and as I intend to
have a front seat, I'm going now."
Miss Peters began to count on her fingers.
"But Martha, it surely is not necessary."
"Now, Maria, that's enough. You'd argue any one black in the face. I
don't often have my way, but I'll have it on this occasion. I am going
to call for Mrs. Gorman Stanley; and Mrs. Morris asked me to knock her
up, and we'll all of us just be at the church in good time."
"In good time," gasped Miss Maria. "But the doors won't be opened."
"Oh, won't they! You just wait and see. I haven't fought that girl's
battles for nothing. We'll be able to get into the church, Maria, don't
you fear. I have made friends as well as foes of late, and there are
these who can get me into the church, so that I may stand up for
Beatrice to the last. Now, have you swallowed your coffee?"
"I have. It has scalded my throat frightfully. I hate drinking hot
liquid in such a hurry."
"Maria, you are dreadfully fractious this morning. And, good gracious
me! What have you got in your bonnet! Here let me hold up the candle and
look."
"Don't--don't drop the grease on my brown silk, Martha."
"Brown fiddlestick! Hold your head steady. Well--I never! The vanity of
some folk! The apings of some people. Oh, I haven't a word to say if you
like to make a show of yourself. I respect my years. I live up to them.
Some people, I won't name who--don't."
"Had I better take off the bonnet, Martha? I thought these very
_large_ chrysanthemums--I chose them on purpose--"
"Hideous--you're a perfect fright! Look at me. Is there anything to
laugh at in my velvet bonnet? Does it poke itself on the back of my
head? And does it deck itself in pink and yellow?"
"It looks funereal, Martha, it's all black."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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