The Widow Barnaby. Vol. 3 (of 3)Trollope, Frances Milton
General
The Widow Barnaby. Vol. 3 (of 3)
Trollope, Frances Milton
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Social classes -- England -- Fiction; Widows -- Fiction
writing down what I said, for he had got his gold pencil-case
in his hand; and though it was on the page of a book that he
seemed to be scribbling, I saw plain enough by his eye that he
was listening to me. You know, brother, I am pretty sharp, and
I have got a few presents out of this fly-away lady, let what
will come of it. But I could not help thinking, Magnus,--and if
it was in a printed book it would be called a _fine
observation_,--I could not help thinking how such a vulgar
feeling as curiosity spoils the elegance of the manners. Lady
Elizabeth, who has often told me that I speak the most
exquisite French she ever heard, and who always before
yesterday seemed delighted to have the opportunity of
conversing with me in this very genteel language, never said
one word in it all the time I stayed; and once when, as usual,
I spoke a few words, she looked as cross as a bear, and said,
'Be so good as to speak English just now, Miss Morrison.' Very
impertinent, I thought, _may set eh gal_. Don't think the worse
of me for this unfortunate blunder.... Let me hear how you are
going on, and believe me
"Your affectionate sister,
"SARAH MORRISON."
Mr. Magnus Morrison had by no means recovered the blow given him by this
most unpleasing news, when a note from Mrs. Barnaby to the following
effect was put into his hands.
"MY DEAR SIR,
"A most ridiculous, but also disagreeable circumstance, has
happened to me this morning. A paltry little tradesman of
Cheltenham, to whom I owe a few pounds, has taken fright
because I did not return to my apartments there at the moment
he expected me ... the cause of which delay you must be aware
has been the great pleasure I have received from seeing London
so agreeably.... However, he has had the incredible insolence
to follow me with a writ, and I must beg you to come to me with
as little delay as possible, as your bail, I understand, will
prevent my submitting to the indignity of being lodged in a
prison during the interval necessary for my broker (who acts as
my banker) to take the proper measures for supplying me with
the trifling sum I want. In the hope of immediately seeing you,
"I remain, dear Sir,
"Most truly yours,
"MARTHA BARNABY."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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