|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 67
One evening in October, Charlotte was walking with Stephen. They had
been to look at the new building, for every inch of progress was a
matter of interest to them. As they came through the village, they
perceived that Farmer Huet was holding his apple feast; for he was
carrying from his house into his orchard a great bowl of spiced ale, and
was followed by a merry company, singing wassail as they poured a little
at the root of every tree:--
"Here's to thee, good apple-tree!
Whence thou may'st bud, and whence thou may'st blow,
Whence thou may'st bear apples enou';
Hats full, caps full,
Bushels full, sacks full.
Hurrah, then! Hurrah, then!
Here's to thee, good apple-tree!"
They waited a little to watch the procession round the orchard; and as
they stood, Julius advanced from an opposite direction. He took a letter
from his pocket, which he had evidently been to the mail to secure, for
Charlotte watched him break the seal as he approached; and when he
suddenly raised his head, and saw her look of amazement, he made a
little bravado of the affair, and said, with an air of frankness, "It is
a letter from Harry. I thought it was best for his letters not to come
to the house. The mail-bag might be taken to the squire's room, and who
knows what would happen if he should see one of these," and he tapped
the letter significantly with his long pointed fore-finger.
"You should not have made such an arrangement as that, Julius, without
speaking to mother. It was cruel to Harry. Why should the villagers
think that the sight of a letter from him would be so dreadful to his
own people?"
"I did it for the best, Charlotte. Of course, you will misjudge me."
"Ah! I know now why Polly Esthwaite called you, 'such a nice, kind,
thoughtful gentleman as never was.' Is the letter for you?"
"Mr. Latrigg can examine the address if you wish."
"Mr. Latrigg distinctly refuses to look at the letter. Come, Charlotte,
the air is cold and raw;" and with very scant courtesy they parted.
"What can it mean, Steve, Julius and Harry in correspondence? I don't
know what to think of such a thing. Harry has only written once to me
since he went away. There is something wrong in all this secrecy, you
may depend upon it."
"I would not be suspicious, Charlotte. Harry is affectionate and
trusting. Julius has written him letters full of sympathy and
friendship; and the poor fellow, cut off from home and kindred, has been
only too glad to answer. Perhaps we should have written also."
"But why did Julius take that trouble? Julius always has a motive for
what he does. I mean a selfish motive. Has Harry written to you?"
"Only a few lines the very day he left. I have heard nothing since."
The circumstance troubled Charlotte far beyond its apparent importance.
She could conceive of no possible reason for Julius interfering in
Harry's life, and she had the feeling of a person facing a danger in the
dark. Julius was also annoyed at her discovery. "It precipitates
matters," he said to Sophia, "and is apparently an unlucky chance. But
chance is destiny, and this last letter of Harry's indicates that all
things are very nearly ready for me. As for your sister, Charlotte
Sandal, I think she is the most interfering person I ever knew."
The air of the supper-table was one of reserve and offence. Only Sophia
twittered and observed and wondered about all kinds of trivial things.
"Mother has so many headaches now. Does she take proper care of herself,
Charlotte? She ought to take exercise. Julius and I never neglect taking
exercise. We think it a duty. No time do you say? Mother ought to take
time. Poor, dear father was never unreasonable; he would wish mother to
take time. What tasteless custards, Charlotte! I don't think Ann cares
how she cooks now. When I was at home, and the eldest daughter, she
always liked to have things nice. Julius, my dear one, can you find any
thing fit to eat?" And so on, and so on, until Charlotte felt as if she
must scream, or throw a plate down, or fly beyond the sight and sound of
all things human.
The next evening Julius announced his intention of going abroad at once.
"But I shall leave Sophia to be a little society for mother, and I shall
not delay an hour beyond the time necessary for travel and business." He
spoke with an air of conscious self-denial; and as Charlotte did not
express any gratitude he continued, "Not that I expect any thanks,
Sophia and I, but fortunately we find duty is its own reward."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|