|
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 38
"It's after eight," Allison complained, looking at his watch, "and I'm
starving."
"So am I. Likewise my skirts are wet, so we'd better go."
When they reached Madame Bernard's, Rose ordered breakfast in the
dining-room, for two, then excused herself to put on dry clothing.
Allison waited before the open fire until she came down, fresh and
tailor-made, in another gown and a white linen collar.
"I thought women always wore soft, fluffy things in the morning," he
observed, as they sat down.
"Some do--the fluffy ones, always."
"Who, for instance, are the fluffy ones?"
"Aunt Francesca for one and Isabel for another."
"How long is the kid going to stay?"
"Until she gets ready to go home, I suppose."
"I thought she had no home."
"She hasn't. Poor Isabel is a martyr to the Cause of Woman."
"How so?"
"Her mother is Emancipated, with a large E, and has no time for trifles
like a daughter. She devotes herself to what she calls the Higher World
Service."
"So Isabel is stranded, on a desert island."
"Yes, except for us."
"How good you are!" he exclaimed, with honest admiration.
"It was Aunt Francesca," returned Rose, flushing slightly. "I had
nothing to do with it. She took me from a desert island, too."
"Is Isabel emancipated?"
"Not in the sense that her mother is."
"I don't see but what she is free."
"She is. She can do exactly as she pleases and there is no one to say
her nay."
"I thought all women did as they please."
"They do, in the sense that we all do as we please. If you make a
sacrifice, you do it because you can get more pleasure out of making it
than you would otherwise."
"You've been reading Spencer."
"I plead guilty," she laughed.
"If it's true," he went on, after a moment's pause, "a genuine New
England conscience must be an unholy joy to its proud possessor."
"It's unholy at all events. One lump, or two?" she asked, as the coffee
was brought in.
"Two, please."
It seemed very pleasant to Allison to sit there in the warm, sunny room,
with Rose opposite him, pouring his coffee. There was an air of cosiness
and domestic peace about it hitherto outside his experience. For the
first time he was conscious of the peculiar graciousness and sense of
home that only a home-loving woman may give to a house.
"I like this," he said, as he took the steaming cup. "I'd like to do it
often."
"We'd like to have you," she returned, hospitably.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|