I didn't even escape the Earl. Meg and her husband came home early,
bringing him and Poultney; we had the supper, and, for my sins, I made
myself so agreeable that Meg forgave me, almost.
It was easy; I just let the poor boy talk to me about his mother and
sisters, and watched his face light up as he spoke of them in a simple,
hearty way that American boys don't often command. He is really very nice.
One of his sisters is a beauty.
"But not like you," he said.
He's as boyishly honest as if he were sixteen; and as modest. To be
Countess of Strathay would be a--
Of course Mrs. Henry and Peggy were here, smiling on Mr. Poultney,
Strathay's cousin. Oh, I'm useful! I believe Mrs. Marmaduke is the only
Van Dam who's kind to me without a motive; they're not Knickerbockers at
all, as I supposed.
Cadge is right; I gain nothing socially by remaining with Meg; and her
guesses come too close to my heart's sorrow. She watches and worries,
forever concerned lest some "folly" on my part interfere with her
ambitions. Why, I'm frantic at times with imagining that even the maid she
lends me--an English "person"--reports upon my every change of mood.
Pages:
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268