Winefred: A Story of the Chalk CliffsBaring-Gould, S. (Sabine)
General
Winefred: A Story of the Chalk Cliffs
Baring-Gould, S. (Sabine)
English fiction
She knew that she was being discussed in a language she did not
understand; above all――what she suspected was that some disparaging
remark had been made relative to her mother.
She was already beginning to feel that her new position would be one of
discomfort out of all proportion to its advantages.
But suddenly, with a start, she put up her hand and exclaimed――'Oh!'
CHAPTER XXXII
AT THE MILLINER'S
'My dear,' said the relict of Tomkin-Jones, M.D., 'if I may be allowed
the impertinent question, why did you say, "oh!"'
'I――I think I saw some one I know,' answered Winefred, colouring.
'None of the Finnboroughs! Do not say that. We will drive on――or turn
the carriage. In which direction? I did not see the liveries. Perhaps
on foot.'
'Yes.'
'The Viscount. No――positively. You must introduce me as an old and
valued friend, you know.'
'It was not――I am not sure. I may be mistaken, but I think I caught a
glimpse of my father.'
'Your father! Not possible. Not returned from the Colony?――I see――to be
advanced. He knows that you are here. He will call and inquire.'
'I am not sure he knows that I am with you. It was arranged without
him.'
'He must have arrived quite recently. Prodigious! My dear Mr. Frank,
let us procure the last edition of the _Bath Gazette_――we shall find
him among the fashionable arrivals.'
'The new number will not be issued till the day after to-morrow.'
'True――we must remain in suspense. Or shall we inquire at the
principal hotels? This will be quite an accession to our circle, and
a heightening of our pleasure. All the more reason, if her father be
here, that Miss Holwood should appear to the best advantage. I wonder
now, whether he designs to take her out with him――to be the belle of
the assemblies of what's the place! How good of you, Mr. Frank, to
assist us with your counsel. I suppose it will hardly do to ask you to
our table to take pot-luck with us? Our circle is but one of ladies.'
'A garland of imperishable roses,' said Mr. Wardroper. 'I should be
more than happy.'
'Nonsense, Mr. Wardroper――pot-luck, remember. Upon my honour, I believe
there are but scraps in the house, and I expect only rissolles or
cottage pie.'
'Mamma, you know that you ordered a head and shoulders of salmon, and
that Mrs. Jose has brought us two beautiful ducks.'
'Prodigious! I had forgotten.'
'Really,' said the young man, 'what is on the table will be immaterial
to me in such society, where eye and ear are in a thrill of ecstasy.'
He took off his hat and bowed round.
'Oh, Mr. Wardroper, excuse me, what an elegant new ring you are
wearing!' said the widow. 'How did you come by it? If not asking
impudent questions, is it a present or a purchase?'
'If the ring meet with your approval, that is its highest value. It is
actually my father's signet-ring. His hands have become so crippled
with rheumatism, and the joints of the fingers so swollen, that he is
no longer able to wear it, so he has transferred it to me. It is an
heirloom.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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