The Squire's Daughter: Being the First Book in the Chronicles of the ClintonsMarshall, Archibald
General
The Squire's Daughter: Being the First Book in the Chronicles of the Clintons
Marshall, Archibald
England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction; Upper class -- England -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
"Cannot understand why no reply to telegram. Excessively annoyed.
Wire at once.--Edward Clinton," ran the Squire's second message,
and his first, which Muriel handed to Dick: "Is Cicely with you.
Most annoyed. Wire immediately.--Edward Clinton."
"I'll soothe him," said Dick, and he wrote, "Cicely here. Wanted change.
Is writing. Walter's reply must have miscarried.--Dick." "Another lie,"
he said composedly.
"I want some clothes sent, please, Dick," said Cicely in a constrained
voice.
"Better tell 'em to send Miles up," said Dick, considering.
"No, I don't want Miles," said Cicely, and Dick added, "Please tell
Miles send Cicely clothes for week this afternoon."
"I suppose you can put her up for a week, Muriel," he said.
"I'll put her up for a month, if she'll stay," said Muriel, putting her
arm into Cicely's, and the amended telegram was despatched.
"Now come and see my drawing-room," said Muriel, "and then you can look
after yourself, Dick, till Walter comes home, and I will take Cicely to
her room."
The drawing-room opened on to a garden, wonderfully green and shady
considering where it was. The white walls and the chintz-covered chairs
and sofa had again struck the cultured ladies of Melbury Park as
"artistic but slightly _bizarre_," but the air of richness imparted by
the numberless hymeneal offerings of Walter's and Muriel's friends and
relations had given them a pleasant subject for conversation. Their
opinion was that it was a mistake to have such valuable things lying
about, but if "the doctor" collected them and took them up to put under
his bed every night it would not so much matter.
"They all tell me that Dr. Pringle used this room as a dining-room,"
said Muriel. "It is the first thing they say, and it breaks the ice. We
get on wonderfully well after that; but it is a pretty room, isn't it,
Dick?"
She had her arm in Cicely's, and pressed it sometimes as she talked, but
she did not talk to her.
"It's an uncommonly pretty room," said Dick. "Might be in Grosvenor
Square. Where did you and Walter get your ideas of furnishing from,
Muriel? We don't run to this sort of thing at Kencote and Mountfield.
Content with what our forefathers have taught us, eh?"
"Oh, we know what's what, all right," said Muriel. "We have seen a few
pretty rooms, between us. Now I'm going to take Cicely upstairs. You can
wander about if you like, Dick, and there are cigarettes and things in
Walter's room."
"I'll explore the gay parterre," said Dick. Then he turned to Cicely and
took hold of her chin between his thumb and finger. "Look here, don't
you worry any more, old lady," he said kindly. "You've been a little
fool, and you've had a knock. Tell Muriel about it and I'll tell Walter.
Nobody else need know."
She clung to him, crying. "O Dick," she said, "if you had only spoken to
me like that at first!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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