Through One AdministrationBurnett, Frances Hodgson
General
Through One Administration
Burnett, Frances Hodgson
United States -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
It seemed a very simple thing as she did it, and a very pretty thing. As
he leaned against the leathern back of his chair, beginning vaguely to
realize by a dawning sense of weariness that he had been up all night,
he felt that he had not awakened from his dream yet, or that the visions
of the past months were too far away and too unreal to move him.
The early morning sunlight made its way through the vines embowering the
window, and cast lace-like shadows of their swaying leaves upon the
floor, and upon Bertha's dress when she passed near. The softness of the
light mellowed everything, and intensified the touches of color in the
fans and ornaments on the walls and mantel, and in the bits of drapery
thrown here and there as if by accident; and in the midst of this color
and mellowed light Bertha moved before him, a slender, quiet figure,
making the picture complete.
It was her quietness which impressed itself upon him more than all else.
After the first moments, when she had uttered her cry on seeing him, and
had given way in her momentary agitation, he had noticed that a curious
change fell upon her. When she lifted her face from the gate all emotion
seemed to have died out of it; her voice was quiet. One of the things he
remembered of their talk was that they had both spoken in voices so low
as to be scarcely above a whisper.
When the breakfast was brought in she took a seat at the table to pour
out his coffee and attend to his wants. She ate very little herself, but
he rarely looked up without finding her eyes resting upon him with
wistful interest.
"At least," she said once, "I must see that you have a good breakfast.
The kindest thing you can do this morning is to be hungry. Please be
hungry if you can."
The consciousness that she was caring for him was a wonderful and
touching thing to him. The little housewifely acts with which most men
are familiar were bewilderingly new to him. He had never been on
sufficiently intimate social terms with women to receive many of these
pretty services at their hands. His unsophisticated reverence for
everything feminine had worked against him, with the reserve which was
one of its results. It had been his habit to feel that there was no
reason why he should be singled out for the bestowal of favors, and he
had perhaps ignored many through the sheer ignorance of simple and
somewhat exaggerated humility.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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