The Monctons: A Novel. Volume 1 (of 2)Moodie, Susanna
General
The Monctons: A Novel. Volume 1 (of 2)
Moodie, Susanna
Fiction
"In another week," I exclaimed, as I strode through the
apartment--"yes, in less than a week, I shall obtain my majority: I
shall be free, and then farewell to this accursed house of bondage for
ever!"
Theophilus had not been home many days, before I perceived a decided
alteration in the once friendly greetings I had been accustomed to
receive from Mr. Moncton's guests. I was no longer invited to their
parties, or treated with those flattering marks of attention which had
been so gratifying to my vanity, and given me such an exalted idea of
my own consequence.
At first I was at a loss to imagine what had produced this sudden
change. One simple sentence at length solved all these unpleasant
doubts, and pressed the unwelcome truth home to my heart. Robert
Moncton had been reconciled to his son, and I was once more regarded as
only a _poor relation_.
The day I made this important discovery, I had been detained at the
office long after our usual dinner-hour, and meeting with a friend on
my way home, I sauntered with him several times up and down Regent
Street, before I returned to my uncle's house.
I was not aware that my uncle expected company that day, until informed
by Saunders in the hall, that a large party were assembled in the
dining-room.
I was a little provoked at not receiving any intimation of the event,
and in being too late for appearing at dinner, the third course having
been placed on the table; but I hurried away to my own apartment to
change my dress, and join the ladies in the drawing-room.
This important duty was scarcely effected, before Saunders entered with
a tray covered with dainties, which he had catered for my benefit.
"I was determined, Mr. Geoffrey, that they should not have all the good
things to themselves. Here is an excellent cut of salmon and
lobster-sauce; the plump breast of a partridge, and a slice of
delicious ham--besides, the sunkets. If you cannot make a good dinner
off these, why, I says, that you deserves to be hungry."
And throwing a snowy napkin over a small table near the fire, he
deposited the tray and its tempting contents thereon, placed my chair,
and stood behind it with beaming eyes, his jolly, rosy face radiant
with good-nature and benevolence.
I thanked him heartily for his attention to my comfort, and being tired
and hungry, did ample justice to the meal he had provided.
"This party has been got up in a hurry, Saunders?"
"Not at all, sir. I carried out the invitations four days ago."
"You surprise me!" said I, dropping my knife and fork. "Four days
ago--and I know nothing about it. That is something new."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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