The Three Brothers; CompleteOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The Three Brothers; Complete
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Brothers -- Fiction
‘When I was a girl,’ she said, ‘how every one would have stared to think
I should ever be a painter, making my living!--how they would have
laughed! “What, our Mary!” they would all have said. It came so natural
to do one’s worsted work, and read one’s books, and go to one’s parties!
And I suppose, as you say, I should have been working from the round,
and studying anatomy,--faugh!--my child to do that! I would rather work
my fingers to the bone!’
‘I think you are wrong, my dear,’ the governess said; and Laurie hated
her, listening to the talk.
As for the padrona, she shook something like a tear from her eyelash.
Laurie thought it was pretty to see her hands moving among the lace and
the ribbon, with that look of power in them, knowing exactly how to
twist it, how to make the lace droop as it ought. Not a very monstrous
piece of work, to be sure. ‘Hush!’ she said, ‘here are some people
coming up-stairs. Most likely Bessie Howard, who will tell us what the
spirits are doing; or the Suffolks from over the way, who are great
friends of hers. They have just come home from Dresden, and I want to
hear what they have been about there.’
‘I hate travel-talk,’ said Miss Hadley, ‘and I detest the spirits, so
I’ll go; and though it is not the first time, nor the second, we have
spoken on this subject, I do hope, my dear, you’ll think of what I’ve
said.’
The padrona shook her head; but the two women kissed each other with
true friendliness just as the other visitors came into the dim room.
Laurie had risen reluctantly from his seat in the darkness to bid the
governess, who was one of the family, good-night. ‘I am sorry to hear of
your trouble, Mr. Renton,’ she said, as she gave him her hand. She was
not bad-looking, though she was strong-minded; and though he had wanted
to wring her neck a moment before, the brightness of her eyes,--though
she was half as old again as Laurie,--and the kindness of her tone
mollified the woman-loving young man in spite of himself.
‘Thanks,’ he said; ‘you must have thought me a brute; but I don’t feel
up to talk,--yet.’
‘It is not to be expected,’ said Miss Hadley; ‘but it is a blessing to
be young and have all your forces unimpaired. You must do as much as you
can, and not think any more than you can help. Good-night!’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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