The Young Step-Mother; Or, A Chronicle of MistakesYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
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The Young Step-Mother; Or, A Chronicle of Mistakes
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Domestic fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Stepmothers -- Fiction
‘My dear!’ said Albinia, ‘don’t you know that if a royal tiger were
to eat up your cousin John in India, the Drurys would say Mrs. Kendal
always let the tigers run about loose! Nor am I sure that your faults
are not my fault. I helped you to be more exclusive and intolerant, and
I am sure I tried your temper, when I did not know what was the matter
with you--’
‘No--no,’ said the choked voice. It would have been an immense comfort
to cry, or even to be able to return the kiss; but she was a great deal
too wretched to be capable of any demonstration; physically exhausted by
being driven about by Maurice; mentally worn out by the attempts to
be amiable, which had degenerated into wrangling, full of remorse
for having made light of her brother’s illness, and, for that reason,
persuaded that she was to be punished by seeing it become fatal. Not a
word of all this did she say, but, dejected and silent, she spent the
evening in a lonely corner of the drawing-room, while her brother, in
the full pleasure of returning home, and greatly enjoying his invalid
privileges, was discussing the projected improvements.
Talking at last brought back his cough with real violence, and he was
sent to bed; Albinia went up with him to see that his fire burnt. He set
Mr. Ferrars’s drawing of the alms-houses over his mantelshelf. ‘I shall
nail it up to-morrow,’ he said. ‘I always wanted a picture here, and
that’s a jolly one to look to.’
‘It would be a beautiful beginning,’ she said. ‘I think your life would
go the better for it, Gibbie.’
‘I suppose old nurse would be too grand for one,’ he said, ‘but I should
like to have her so near! And you must mind and keep old Mrs. Baker out
of the Union for it. And that famous old blind sailor! I shall put him
up a bench to sit in the sun, and spin his yarns on, and tell him to
think himself at Greenwich.’
Albinia went down, only afraid that his being so very good was a
dangerous symptom.
Sophy was far from well in the morning, and Albinia kept her upstairs,
and sent her godfather to make her a visit. He always did her good; he
knew how to probe deeply, and help her to speak, and he gave her advice
with more experience than his sister, and more encouragement than her
father.
Sophy said little, but her eyes had a softened look.
‘One good thing about Sophy,’ said he afterwards to his sister, ‘is,
that she will never talk her feelings to death.’
‘That reserve is my great pain. I don’t get at the real being once in
six months.’
‘So much the better for people living together.’
‘Well, I was thinking that you and I are a great deal more intimate and
confidential when we meet now, than we used to be when we were always
together.’
‘People can’t be often confidential from the innermost when they live
together,’ said Maurice.
‘Since I have been a Kendal, such has been my experience.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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