The Trial; Or, More Links of the Daisy ChainYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
General
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
'Those Saturdays! They were the only walks she ever would take; but
she would always come with me.'
More followed in the same strain, and Ethel began to gather more
distinct impressions of the Ward family. She saw that her present
charge was warm and sound-hearted, and that the strength of his
affections had been chiefly absorbed by the homely housewifely mother,
comparatively little esteemed by the modernized brother and sister. Of
the loss of his father he seemed to think less; it seemed, indeed,
rather to reconcile him to that of his mother, by the grief it spared
her; and it confirmed Ethel's notion, that Mr. Ward, a busy and dull
man, paid no great attention to his children between the plaything
period and that of full development. The mother was the home; and
Averil, though Leonard showed both love for and pride in her, had
hitherto been a poor substitute, while as to Henry, there was something
in each mention of him which gave Ethel an undefined dread of the
future of the young household, and a doubt of the result of her
father's kind schemes of patronage.
At any rate, this conversation had the happy effect of banishing
constraint, and satisfying Ethel that the let-alone system was
kindness, not neglect. She was at ease in discussing fossils, though
he contributed no word, and she let him sleep or wake as he best liked;
whilst Aubrey read to her the 'Cruise of the Betsey.'
Henry's prescription was sent to invigorate the fishes, when its
cessation was found to be followed by the recovery of sleep and
appetite, and in the cool of the evening, by a disposition to stroll on
the beach, and lie under the lee of a rock upon a railway rug, which
Ethel had substituted for the 'three-legged delusion.'
There he was left, while his companions went fossil-hunting, and stayed
so long as to excite their compunction, and quicken their steps when
they at length detached themselves from the enticing blue lias.
'What has he got there?' cried Aubrey. 'Hillo, old fellow! have you
fallen a prey to a black cat?'
'Cat!' returned Leonard, indignantly; 'don't you see it is the jolliest
little dog in the world?'
'You call that a dog?' said the other boy with redoubled contempt; 'it
is just big enough for little Margaret's Noah's Ark!'
'It really is a beauty!' said Ethel. 'I have known one of Flora's
guests bring a bigger one in her muff.'
'It is the most sensible little brute,' added Leonard. 'See; beg, my
man, beg!'
And the beauteous little black-coated King Charles erected itself on
its hind legs, displaying its rich ruddy tan waistcoat and sleeves, and
beseeching with its black diamond eyes for the biscuit, dropped and
caught in mid-air. It was the first time Leonard had looked bright.
'So you expect us to sanction your private dog stealing?' said Aubrey.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account