We want to rest and dry ourselves here for
a time, if you please.'
That evening the sorrowing friends sat with their hostess beside
the large fire, Knight in the recess formed by the chimney breast,
where he was in shade. And by showing a little confidence they
won hers, and she told them what they had stayed to hear--the
latter history of poor Elfride.
'One day--after you, Mr. Knight, left us for the last time--she
was missed from the Crags, and her father went after her, and
brought her home ill. Where she went to, I never knew--but she
was very unwell for weeks afterwards. And she said to me that she
didn't care what became of her, and she wished she could die.
When she was better, I said she would live to be married yet, and
she said then, "Yes; I'll do anything for the benefit of my
family, so as to turn my useless life to some practical account."
Well, it began like this about Lord Luxellian courting her. The
first Lady Luxellian had died, and he was in great trouble because
the little girls were left motherless. After a while they used to
come and see her in their little black frocks, for they liked her
as well or better than their own mother---that's true. They used
to call her "little mamma." These children made her a shade
livelier, but she was not the girl she had been--I could see that--
and she grew thinner a good deal. Well, my lord got to ask the
Swancourts oftener and oftener to dinner--nobody else of his
acquaintance--and at last the vicar's family were backwards and
forwards at all hours of the day.
Pages:
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505