|
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 5
"Could I wear diamonds?" asked Isabel. She was interested now and her
eyes sparkled.
Madame Bernard studied her for a moment before replying. "Yes," she
admitted, "you could wear them beautifully, but they do not belong to
Rose, or to me."
"What else could I wear?"
"Turquoises, if they were set in silver."
"I have one," Isabel announced with satisfaction. "A lovely big
turquoise matrix set in dull silver. But I have no diamonds."
"They'll come," Rose assured her, "if you want them. I think people
usually get things if they want them badly enough."
Isabel turned to Madame Bernard. "What stones do you wear?" she
inquired, politely.
"Only amethysts," she laughed. "I have a pearl necklace, but it doesn't
quite 'belong,' so I don't wear it. I won't wear anything that doesn't
'belong.'"
"How can you tell?"
"By instinct." "I can walk into a shop, look around for a moment, and
say: 'please bring me my hat.' The one I ask for is always the right
one. It is invariably becoming and suitable, and it's the same with
everything else."
"It's a wonderful experience to go shopping with Aunt Francesca," put in
Rose. "She knows what she wants and goes straight to it, without loss of
time. Utterly regardless of fashion, for its own sake, she always
contrives to be in the mode, though I believe that if hoop skirts were
suited to her, she'd have the courage of her crinoline, and wear one."
"Let us be thankful they're not," remarked Madame. "It's almost
impossible to believe it, but they must have looked well upon some
women. Every personality makes its own demand for harmony and it is
fascinating to me to observe strange people and plan for them their
houses and clothes and belongings. You can pick out, from a crowd, the
woman who would have a crayon portrait of herself upon an easel in her
parlour, and quite properly, too, since her nature demands it. After you
are experienced, you can identify the man who eats sugar and vinegar on
lettuce, and group those who keep parrots--or are capable of it."
The seventy years sat lightly upon Madame Francesca now. Her deep eyes
shone with inward amusement, and little smiles hovered unexpectedly
about the corners of her mouth. A faint pink tint, like a faded rose,
bloomed upon her cheeks. Rose watched her with adoring eyes, and
wondered whether any man in the world, after fifteen years of close
association, could be half so delightful.
Coffee was brought into the living-room, when they went back, preceded
by Mr. Boffin, emanating the dignified satisfaction of a cat who has
supped daintily upon chicken and cream. He sat down before the fire and
methodically washed his face.
"I believe I envy Mr. Boffin his perfect digestion," remarked Madame, as
she sipped her coffee from a Royal Canton cup. She and Rose stood for
half an hour after dinner, always.
Isabel finished her coffee and set the cup upon the table. She slipped
the Sheffield tray from under the embroidered doily and took it to the
light, where she leaned over it, studying the design. Rose thought that
the light from the tray was reflected upon the girl's face, she became
at once so brilliant, so sparkling.
"Speaking of harmony--" said Madame Bernard, in a low tone, glancing at
Rose and inclining her head toward Isabel.
"Yes," replied Isabel, returning the tray to its place; "it is a lovely
one, isn't it?"
Madame turned toward the window to hide a smile. Rose followed, and drew
the little grey lady into the circle of her strong arm.
"Dear Aunt Francesca!" she said softly. "I thank you so much!"
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|