|
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 37
Mrs. Herriton swept into the room, saying, "Come with
me, dear, and I will tell you. Now it is time for you to know."
Irma returned from the interview sobbing, though, as a
matter of fact, she had learnt very little. But that little
took hold of her imagination. She had promised secrecy--she
knew not why. But what harm in talking of the little
brother to those who had heard of him already?
"Aunt Harriet!" she would say. "Uncle Phil!
Grandmamma! What do you suppose my little brother is doing
now? Has he begun to play? Do Italian babies talk sooner
than us, or would he be an English baby born abroad? Oh, I
do long to see him, and be the first to teach him the Ten
Commandments and the Catechism."
The last remark always made Harriet look grave.
"Really," exclaimed Mrs. Herriton, "Irma is getting too
tiresome. She forgot poor Lilia soon enough."
"A living brother is more to her than a dead mother,"
said Philip dreamily. "She can knit him socks."
"I stopped that. She is bringing him in everywhere. It
is most vexatious. The other night she asked if she might
include him in the people she mentions specially in her prayers."
"What did you say?"
"Of course I allowed her," she replied coldly. "She has
a right to mention any one she chooses. But I was annoyed
with her this morning, and I fear that I showed it."
"And what happened this morning?"
"She asked if she could pray for her 'new father'--for
the Italian!"
"Did you let her?"
"I got up without saying anything."
"You must have felt just as you did when I wanted to
pray for the devil."
"He is the devil," cried Harriet.
"No, Harriet; he is too vulgar."
"I will thank you not to scoff against religion!" was
Harriet's retort. "Think of that poor baby. Irma is right
to pray for him. What an entrance into life for an English
child!"
"My dear sister, I can reassure you. Firstly, the
beastly baby is Italian. Secondly, it was promptly
christened at Santa Deodata's, and a powerful combination of
saints watch over--"
"Don't, dear. And, Harriet, don't be so serious--I mean
not so serious when you are with Irma. She will be worse
than ever if she thinks we have something to hide."
Harriet's conscience could be quite as tiresome as
Philip's unconventionality. Mrs. Herriton soon made it easy
for her daughter to go for six weeks to the Tirol. Then she
and Philip began to grapple with Irma alone.
Just as they had got things a little quiet the beastly
baby sent another picture post-card--a comic one, not
particularly proper. Irma received it while they were out,
and all the trouble began again.
"I cannot think," said Mrs. Herriton, "what his motive
is in sending them."
Two years before, Philip would have said that the motive
was to give pleasure. Now he, like his mother, tried to
think of something sinister and subtle.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|