The Fatal Glove by Clara Augusta Jones Trask


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Page 58

As for my feet, though not remarkably large, they were constantly in the
way. I have often seen the time when I would have given all the world,
had it been mine to give, if I could have taken them off, and consigned
them to the obscurity of my pocket.

One eventful day, my mother took it into her head to have a quilting.
Early in the afternoon I retired to the garret, as the most isolated spot
I could think of, and ensconced myself in bed. All the girls in the
neighborhood were invited, and I would sooner have faced a flaming line
of armed batteries.

Such a gay, joyous time as they had of it, judging from the sounds of
merriment that occasionally floated up to my retreat! I longed to be a
witness of the frolic I knew they were enjoying, but I could not summon
resolution enough to venture from my concealment; and so I wound the
sheets round my head to shut out the gay peals of laughter, and tried to
think myself highly satisfied with my achievement. I was comfortable and
safe, so far as I knew; but the hours were long ones, and I prayed Time
to jog on his team a little faster, if convenient.

By-and-by, the merriment grew louder; there was a pattering of eager feet
on the garret stairs, considerable loud whispering in the passage, and an
infinite amount of giggling. Good heavens! What were they going to do? I
clutched the bed clothes with frantic hands and drew them around my head,
to the utter neglect of the rest of my body, probably believing, like the
ostrich, that so long as I saw nobody, nobody would see me.

Directly the door was thrown open, and, evidently, there was a
consultation on the threshold.

"Go in, Flory!" said the gay voice of Kate Merrick, the pride and tease
of the village. "Go in, I say! What on earth are you afraid of? Boy
Sunderland won't eat you, if he is a bear!"

"But what will he think?" asked Florence Hay, softly. "He is so bashful!
Goodness! Kate, how can I?"

"Nonsense! You must pay the forfeit, or your thimble remains in my
possession! I won't be coaxed over, this time!" returned Kate,
decisively.

There was a slight scuffle, and then the eager hands of the coterie
began to pull away my fortifications. I resisted with the strength of
desperation, but I was no match for a dozen frolicsome girls. They
unswathed me, and while four of them held my two arms, Florence Hay
kissed me. Mahomet! Such a thrill as went through my heart! I devoutly
wished that she would repeat the experiment; but, instead of doing so,
she scampered from the room, followed by her boisterous companions.
Completely overcome, I crept under the bed, where I remained until
nightfall sent our merry visitors to their several homes.

Well, the years passed on, and brought my eighteenth birthday. I had lost
nothing of my besetting difficulty. My mother was thoroughly mortified by
my conduct, and did not hesitate to lecture me soundly on my folly; and
my aunt Alice emphatically declared I was the most consummate fool that
she had ever seen! I knew it was true; but--so perverse is man--I did not
feel at all obliged to her for uttering it.

One day it rained a little; in fact, it often does so. Florence Hay was
returning home from the village just as the shower came up, and, partly
out of regard for my mother, with whom she was a great favorite, partly
from the fear of ruining her new spring bonnet, she stepped into our
house.

My mother was delighted to see her, and made her quite at home directly.
It was no new thing for the little maiden to visit my mother; but on such
occasions I had always, hitherto, taken flight to the fields or the
hay-mow. Now, however, it was raining hard, and I was holding silk for
my mother to mind; and a retreat was impossible.

Though in exquisite torture, every moment, lest the pretty visitor should
address some question to me, and oblige me to speak, yet I enjoyed being
where I could look into her bewitching face immensely. She had such blue
eyes! and such cherry lips! And those lips had kissed me! I blushed
red-hot to think of it, and my good mother anxiously commented on my high
color, saying she was afraid I was going to have the erysipelas.
Erysipelas, indeed!

It rained all the afternoon. Florence stayed to tea, and, by the time the
meal was over, I had broken two plates, knocked down a saucer, upset the
cream pitcher, and nearly cut the end of my thumb off with my knife.
Also, the rain had ceased, and it was dark.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Fri 5th Dec 2025, 17:54