The Young Step-Mother; Or, A Chronicle of MistakesYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
General
The Young Step-Mother; Or, A Chronicle of Mistakes
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Domestic fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Stepmothers -- Fiction
‘No,’ said Albinia, kindly; ‘I do not expect that, my dear. I don’t ask
for any more than you can freely give, dear child. You must bear with
having me in that place, and we will try and help each other to
make your papa comfortable; and, Lucy, you will forgive me, if I am
impetuous, and make mistakes.’
Lucy’s little clear black eyes looked as if nothing like this had ever
come within her range of observation, and Albinia could sympathize with
her difficulty of reply.
Mr. Kendal was not in the drawing-room when they re-entered, there was
only Gilbert nursing his toothache by the fire, and Sophy sitting in the
middle of the rug, holding up a screen. She said something good-natured
to each, but neither responded graciously, and Lucy went on talking,
showing off the room, the chiffonieres, the ornaments, and some pretty
Indian ivory carvings. There was a great ottoman of Aunt Maria’s work,
and a huge cushion with an Arab horseman, that Lucy would uncover,
whispering, ‘Poor mamma worked it,’ while Sophy visibly winced, and
Albinia hurried it into the chintz cover again, lest Mr. Kendal should
come. But Lucy had full time to be communicative about the household
with such a satisfied, capable manner, that Albinia asked if she had
been keeping house all this time.
‘No; old Nurse kept the keys, and managed till now; but she went this
morning.’
Sophy’s mouth twitched.
‘She was so very fond--’ continued Lucy.
‘Don’t!’ burst out Sophy, almost the first word Albinia had heard from
her; but no more passed, for Mr. Kendal came in, and Lucy’s conversation
instantly was at an end.’
Before him she was almost as silent as the others, and he seldom
addressed himself to her, only inquiring once after her grandmamma’s
health, and once calling Sophy out of the way when she was standing
between the fire and--He finished with the gesture of command, whether
he said ‘Your mamma,’ none could tell.
It was late, and the meal was not over before bed-time, when Albinia
lingered to find remedies for Gilbert’s toothache, pleased to feel
herself making a commencement of motherly care, and to meet an
affectionate glance of thanks from Mr. Kendal’s eye. Gilbert, too,
thanked her with less shyness than before, and was hopeful about the
remedy; and with the feeling of having made a beginning, she ran down
to tell Mr. Kendal that she thought he had hardly done justice to the
children--they were fine creatures--something so sweet and winning about
Lucy--she liked Gilbert’s countenance--Sophy must have something deep
and noble in her.
He lifted his head to look at her bright face, and said, ‘They are very
much obliged to you.’
‘You must not say that, they are my own.’
‘I will not say it again, but as I look at you, and the home to which I
have brought you, I feel that I have acted selfishly.’
Albinia timidly pressed his hand, ‘Work was always what I wished,’ she
said, ‘if only I could do anything to lighten your grief and care.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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