The Trial; Or, More Links of the Daisy ChainYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
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The Trial; Or, More Links of the Daisy Chain
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century; Trials (Murder) -- Fiction
Ethel was very glad to see how her father had made up his mind to what
was perhaps the most real disappointment of his life, but she was
grieved that Tom did not respond to the invitation, and next wrote from
Paris. It was one of his hurried notes, great contrasts to such
elaborate performances as his recent letter. 'Thanks, many thanks to
my father,' he said; 'I knew you would make him see reason, and he
always yields generously. I was too much hurried to come home; could
not afford to miss the trail. I had not time to say before that the
Bank that sent the cheque to Whitford had it from a lodging-house in
town. Landlord had a writ served on S. A.; as he was embarking at
Folkestone, he took out the draft and paid. He knew its import, if
Bramshaw did not. I hope my father was not vexed at my not staying.
There are things I cannot stand, namely, discussions and Gertrude.'
Gertrude was one of the chief cares upon Ethel's mind. She spent many
thoughts upon the child, and even talked her over with Flora.
'What is it, Flora? is it my bad management? She is a good girl, and a
dear girl; but there is such a want of softness about her.'
'There is a want of softness about all the young ladies of the day,'
returned Flora.
'I have heard you say so, but--'
'We have made girls sensible and clear-headed, till they have grown
hard. They have been taught to despise little fears and illusions, and
it is certainly not becoming.'
'We had not fears, we were taught to be sensible.'
'Yes, but it is in the influence of the time! It all tends to make
girls independent.'
'That's very well for the fine folks you meet in your visits, but it
does not account for my Daisy--always at home, under papa's eye--having
turned nineteenth century--What is it, Flora? She is reverent in great
things, but not respectful except to papa, and that would not have been
respect in one of us--only he likes her sauciness.'
'That is it, partly.'
'No, I won't have that said,' exclaimed Ethel. 'Papa is the only
softening influence in the house--the only one that is tender. You see
it is unlucky that Gertrude has so few that she really does love, with
anything either reverend or softening about them. She is always at war
with Charles Cheviot, and he has not fun enough, is too lumbering
altogether, to understand her, or set her down in the right way; and
she domineers over Hector like the rest of us. I did hope the babies
might have found out her heart, but, unluckily, she does not take to
them. She is only bored by the fuss that Mary and Blanche make about
them.
'You know we are all jealous of both Charles Cheviots, elder and
younger.'
'I often question whether I should not have taken her down and made her
ashamed of all the quizzing and teasing at the time of Mary's marriage.
But one cannot be always spoiling bright merry mischief, and I am only
elder sister after all. It is a wonder she is as good to me as she is.'
'She never remembered our mother, poor dear.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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