Aunts -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Love stories; Stepmothers -- Fiction
I had a small sealskin purse; I slipped the purse inside my muff and
went downstairs. Soon it would be too warm to wear muffs, for the fine
summer weather was fast approaching, but I was glad of mine to-day.
Perhaps my sorrow had chilled me, for I felt rather cold. A taxi-cab
came slowly by; I motioned to the man to stop. I got in, telling the
driver to take me to 24c, Green Street, "And go as quickly as you can,"
I said. I was all impatience, and the possibility of Lord Hawtrey being
out did not once occur to me.
We got to Green Street in a very few minutes and drew up at the right
number. There was "24c," painted in most distinct lettering on the
highly-enamelled door. The door was enamelled a very soft shade of
green, and I thought it looked remarkably well. I also remarked the
flower boxes in each of the windows and how fresh and smart the flowers
looked, but somehow they did not please me. I supposed that Lord Hawtrey
had a passion for flowers, otherwise he would never have given me those
roses. I hated the memory of those roses now; this time yesterday how
passionately I had loved them, but now I hated them. I had supposed that
they had come from my own true love, and they had in reality been the
gift of an old man who might have been my father, for so I considered
Lord Hawtrey.
I stepped out of the cab, paid the driver his fare, saw him move away,
and then ran up the low flight of steps and rang the bell.
"Is Lord Hawtrey in?" I asked of the man in livery who attended to my
summons.
A reply in the negative was instantly given to me.
"His lordship is out, miss." The man gave me a cold stare. But I was far
too excited to think about his manner.
"Will he be in soon?" I asked. "I have come to see Lord Hawtrey on very
important business."
"If you will step inside, miss, I will make inquiries. May I ask if his
lordship is expecting you?"
"No," I answered. "This is Lady Helen Dalrymple's card; I have come from
her house."
The man took the card and gave me a second glance, which now showed
absolute respect. How magical was the effect of my stepmother's name! I
wondered at it. I was glad that I had put a few of her cards in my
purse.
In a very few minutes the servant returned to say that his lordship
would be in almost immediately, and asking me if I would wish to wait in
the white boudoir.
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account