Irish -- England -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction
"Oh, now, come, Caroline, don't sicken me with your false sentiment. It
is a precious good thing for Elma that she has got an aunt ready and
willing to help her. I have just arranged to send her to a first-class
German school. Her English, I should say, was fair, and she will be
taken as pupil-teacher; she will thus have the advantage of learning
German. I heard of this through a great friend of mine, Fraeulein Van
Brunt. She is going to Germany herself next week, and will take Elma, if
you can spare her."
"If I can spare her? But it will break my heart--such a sensible girl
as she is," said poor Mrs. Lewis.
"Come, come, Carrie, no more nonsense; when I explain all the advantages
you will see for yourself how all-important it is that Elma should go.
The school is in the Harz Mountains, a splendid place; magnificent air,
and all the rest. If Elma stays there for two years, I will then have
her home, and send her to Girton as I promised. I will further arrange
that she spends her holidays with me, as I think really--" here Mrs.
Steward glanced round the shabby room--"I think that the less she
remains with her own family for the present the better."
"I see what you mean. I am beneath my own child."
"Beneath her. Well, it is a painful thing to say; but, as you put it so
frankly, I must reply in the affirmative," replied Mrs. Steward. "Ah,
who is this now?"
The door was flung open, and Carrie, very red about the face, and with
her parcel under her arm, entered the room. Her intention was to ask her
mother to accompany her to the pawnshop. It had not been the first nor
the second nor the third time that the unfortunate lady had been obliged
to pawn her things. Carrie thought that her parent could make a better
bargain than she could herself, and she hoped that she would have been
in time to transact this little business before the arrival of her aunt.
She now gave a start of dismay, and, dropping the parcel, sank down on
the nearest chair. As she did so Kitty's watch and chain tumbled out of
the front of her dress, where she had very insecurely fastened them. The
watch was a lovely one, with an enameled back studded with pearls, and
the chain was made of eighteen-carat gold. Owing to a warning glance
from Carrie, Mrs. Lewis refrained from saying a word; but Mrs. Steward
had no idea of keeping her emotions to herself.
"You, I presume, are Carrie," she said, looking at her niece. "Come
here, Carrie, and speak to your aunt."
Carrie advanced as if she were treading on buttered eggs. She held out
one dimpled hand gingerly.
"How do you do, my dear? Allow me to congratulate you on the acquisition
of that very lovely little watch and that splendid chain. Now, I am
devoured with curiosity to know who has given them to you. Surely not
your mother? Surely, Caroline, with all your faults, you have not----"
"Oh, dear me, no," said Mrs. Lewis.
Carrie indulged in a loud laugh.
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