The Stokesley SecretYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
General
The Stokesley Secret
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Family -- Juvenile fiction
“Yes, I know,” said Susan. “Mrs. Greville told Mrs. Brownlow that Bessie
was the only one among us that was capable of civilisation; but Mrs.
Greville is a fine lady, and we always laugh at her.”
“And now,” as Bessie returned, “you want to go out to your play again, my
dear. Will you leave Georgie with us?”
Susan was a little doubtful about trusting her darling with anyone,
especially one who could take Bessie’s part against him; but she wished
exceedingly to be present at the interesting moment of seeing whether the
potatoes were done enough, and George was perfectly contented with
measuring everything on the ribbon, so she ran quickly off, without the
manners to thank Miss Fosbrook, but to assure the rest of the party that
the governess really was very good-natured, and that she would save her
biggest and best potato for Miss Fosbrook’s tea.
Christabel managed very happily with little George, though not quite
without offending Elizabeth, who thought it very hard to be desired to
put away her painting instead of tantalizing her little brother with the
sight of what he must not have. Miss Fosbrook could not draw her into
the merry game with little George, which made his shouts of glee ring out
through the house, and meet Nurse Freeman’s ear as she came in-doors with
the baby, and calling at the school-room door, summoned him off to his
tea, as if she were in a pet with Miss Fosbrook for daring to meddle with
one of _her_ own nursery children.
Nothing more was heard of the others, and Christabel and Elizabeth both
read in peace till the tea-bell rang, and they went down and waited and
waited, till Miss Fosbrook accepted Bessie’s offer of going out to call
the rest. But Bessie returned no more than the rest; and the governess
set forth herself, but had not made many steps before the voices of the
rabble rout were heard, and they all were dancing and clattering about
her, while Susan and Hal each carried aloft a plate containing articles
once brown, now black, and thickly powdered with white ashes, as were the
children themselves up to their very hair.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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