|
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 52
She stopped polishing and stood looking at her friend with the peculiar,
radiant look which was her greatest charm, her dark eyes glowing, her
lips in proud, sweet lines of resolution, her round chin held high. Then
she laughed, throwing her head higher yet, with a gay spirit; came
forward and caught Ellen Burns by the shoulders and bending kissed her.
"I told you I wasn't proud," she said, "but I am! _Too proud to be
proud!_ I never believed in the pride which covers up, but in that which
frankly owns its poverty, and laughs at it. I laugh!"
"You splendid girl! Where did you get it?"
"Picked it up. But I really think I shall have the happiest year out of
this I've known yet."
"I believe you will. And I shall delight in having you so near."
The two descended. By the time Mrs. Kelsey's work-day was over the front
room was in order, and Charlotte, bidding good-night to her servitors,
gave them hearty praise and bade them come back early in the morning.
Ellen had gone home, bidding Charlotte follow her at convenience.
"I must run out and pick some flowers for my copper bowl," Charlotte had
said. "Then the room will be ready to show your husband this evening. I'm
anxious to have it make a good impression on him, and I've discovered
that men always notice posies."
So, out in the tangled garden she chose a great bunch of delphinium, in
mingled shadings from pale blues and lavenders to deepest sapphire tones,
and bringing it in exultingly filled the copper bowl and set it on the
old spindle-legged table opposite the fireplace. Woven rag rugs in dull
blues lay on the floor; one great winged chair, Granny's chair, stood by
the window. Besides this were the splint-bottomed, high-backed chair, two
Sheraton chairs, and a Chippendale mirror,--all relics of a luxurious old
home. Two small portraits in oil hung upon the wall, painted by some
master hand, portraits of Charlotte's parents. This was all the
furnishing the room contained, but somehow, in the warm light of
the late July afternoon, it looked anything but bare.
The Chesters, the Macauleys and the Burnses, all came across the street
in the early July evening, to view the work which had been done.
Charlotte had slipped on a thin white gown and pinned a bunch of
old-fashioned crimson-and-pink "bleeding-hearts" at her waist, to do the
occasion honour. She looked, somehow, already as if she belonged with the
place. She sat upon the doorstone and hemmed small muslin curtains which
were to go in the bedrooms upstairs, and Martha, Winifred, and Ellen,
seeing this, sent for their sewing materials and helped her, while the
daylight lasted.
Burns, looking on, hands in pockets, suddenly observed, "We fellows ought
to be doing something for her. What do you say to every man going for
a scythe and cutting the grass? No lawn mower can tackle a tangle like
this."
Macauley groaned. "Why begin to be neighbourly at such a pace? Cutting
this grass is going to be no easy task."
But Chester and Burns had already started across the street, and Macauley
was obliged to follow. By the time darkness fell the front yard had been
cropped into at least a semblance of tidiness, and Charlotte was offering
her thanks to three warm gentlemen, and regretting that she had not been
keeping house long enough to have any refreshment to offer them.
"Come over when we are settled, and Granny and I will have some sparkling
Southern beverages for you," she promised.
"You are coming over to sleep, child," Ellen said, as the time for
departure arrived, and Charlotte showed signs of closing up her small
domain.
"Not at all. I mean to have the fun of spending my first night in my new
home," Miss Ruston declared, and held to her decision, in spite of the
arguments and entreaties of the women and the assertions of the men that
she would be afraid.
"Well, then, beat on a dishpan if anything disturbs you, and we'll rush
across in a body and rescue you," promised Macauley.
Left alone, Charlotte went inside, lighted a genial looking lamp, and sat
down alone in her little living-room. Chin in her palms, she leaned her
elbows upon the spindle-legged table, looking up at the portrait of her
mother, its fine colourings glowing in the mellow light from the lamp.
She sat for a long time in this posture, her eyes losing their sparkle
and growing dreamy, and--at last--a trifle misty. When this stage
occurred she suddenly jumped up, carried the lamp into the kitchen,
searched until she found a candle and lighted it, then, extinguishing
the lamp, she went slowly upstairs to the cot bed.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|