The Three BridesYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
General
The Three Brides
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Marriage -- Fiction
Did Raymond, as he mounted his horse, turning from the contact of
the white and black heads, admire the reasonableness of the Cecil
who had never shown any fears for his safety, nor any tendency to
run about the passages in her robe de chambre, though she was now
dressing with all speed?
The women-folk had to depend on their own eyes for intelligence, for
every male, not only of the household but of the village, between
the ages of five and seventy, started for Wil'sbro', and a good many
females followed their example, including the cook and her suite.
However, Susan remained, to find her mistress flown, and in her
fright, give Lady Rosamond as round a scolding as if she had been
Charlie, for her rashness in attempting a transit, which Dr. Hayter
had pronounced to be as much as her mistress's life was worth.
Having thus relieved her mind, and finding that Mrs. Poynsett was
really very comfortable, or else too eager and anxious to find out
if she was not, the good woman applied herself to the making of
coffee.
Anne and Cecil had found their way to the leads, and were thence
summoned to partake of this hasty meal, after which they proposed
going to look from the brow of the hill; and Mrs. Poynsett insisted
that Rosamond should not stay behind on her account; and, glad to
appease the restlessness of anxiety, out went the ladies, to find
the best view of the town,--usually a white object in the distance,
but now blurred by smoke thick and black in the daylight, and now
and then reddened by bursts of flame.
Anne had been reassured as to the need of beating out the fire and
trampling down a place to isolate it, as in the bush-fires of her
experience; and Rosamond related the achievements of the regiment in
quenching many a conflagration in inflammable colonial cities.
It occurred to her that the best place whence to see it was the
tower of the church, which, placed upon a little knoll, was standing
out in full relief against the lurid light. She found the key at
the sexton's, and led the way up the broken stone stair to the trap-
door, where they emerged on the leads, and, in spite of the cold
wind and furious flapping of the flag above their heads, stood
absorbed in the interest of the sight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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