The Last of the Mortimers: A Story in Two VoicesOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The Last of the Mortimers: A Story in Two Voices
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Fiction
My dear old relation whom we have found out so suddenly, and whom I am
quite ashamed to have once thought to be a kind of usurper of something
that belonged to me, has been too much distressed and troubled
altogether about this business to have the trouble of writing it down as
well; and I have so little, so strangely little, to take up my time just
now. The days are somehow all blank, with nothing ever happening in
them. In my mind I can always see the ship making way over the sea, with
the same rush of green water, and the same low-falling, quiet sky, and
no other ships in sight. It has been very quiet weather--that is a great
mercy. They should be almost landed there by this time.
But that is not my business just now. My dear Aunt Milly--it is true she
is only my father’s cousin, but cousin is an awkward title between
people of such different age, and, according to Sara Cresswell, she is
my aunt, _à la mode de Bretagne_, which I don’t mind adopting without
any very close inquiry into its meaning--made an engagement with us to
come to our house the next morning after that first day we met her.
Harry came home from the Cresswells that night in raptures with Aunt
Milly. It was rather hard upon me to see him so pleased. Of course I
knew very well what made him so pleased. He thought he had secured a
home for me. He was never tired praising her in his way. I am not
exactly sure whether she herself would have relished the praises he gave
her, because he has a sad habit of talking slang like all the rest. But
apart from any reason, he _took to her_, which it is a great pleasure to
think of now. When we got home Mr. Luigi’s window was blazing with light
just as it had done when he returned before; for Domenico seems to be
quite of the opinion that candles are articles of love and welcome as
well as of devotion. Harry, who had quite made acquaintance with the
Italian gentleman when he was at home before, went in to see him, and I
went upstairs to baby. I used to take comfort in getting by myself a
little, just at that time. Ten minutes in my own room in the dark did me
a great deal of good. When one takes an opportunity and gets it out of
one’s heart now and then, one can go on longer and better--at least I
have found it so.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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