"Have then at life!" my senses cried. "We will possess its longing
silence, rifle its waiting beauty. We will rise up in its light
and warmth, and cry, 'Come, for we wait.' Its roar, its beauty, its
madness--we will have--_all_." I turned and walked swiftly homeward,
treading the ridges of white sand, the black drifts of sea-weed, as if
they had been a smooth floor.
Aunt Merce was at the door.
"Now," she said, "we are going to have the long May storm. The gulls
are flying round the lighthouse. How high the tide is! You must want
your dinner. I wish you _would_ see to Fanny; she is lording it over
us all."
"Yes, yes, I will do it; you may depend on me. I will reign, and serve
also."
"Oh, Cassandra, _can_ you give up _yourself?_"
"I must, I suppose. Confound the spray; it is flying against the
windows."
"Come in; your hair is wet, and your shawl is wringing. Now for a
cold."
"I never shall have any more colds, Aunt Merce; never mean to have
anything to myself--entirely, you know."
"You do me good, you dear girl; I love you"; and she began to cry.
"There's nothing but cold ham and boiled rice for your dinner."
"What time is it?"
"Near three."
I opened the door of the dining-room; the table was laid, and I walked
round it, on a tour of inspection.
"I thought you might as well have your dinner, all at once," said
Fanny, by the window, with her feet tucked up on the rounds of her
chair. "Here it is."
"I perceive. Who arranged it?"
"Me and Paddy Margaret."
"How many tablecloths have we?"
"Plenty. I thought as you didn't seem to care about any regular hour
for dinner, and made us all wait, _I_ needn't be particular; besides,
I am not the waiter, you know."
She had set on the dishes used in the kitchen. I pulled off cloth and
all--the dishes crashed, of course--and sat down on the floor, picking
out the remains for my repast.
"What will Mr. Morgeson say?" she asked, turning very red.
"Shall you clear away this rubbish by the time he comes home?"
"Why, I must, mustn't I?"
"I hope so. Where's Veronica?"
"She has been gone since twelve; Sam carried her to Temperance's
house."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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