She felt a butterfly kiss on her forehead, and then the speaker, a tall, beautifully-dressed lady, went on talking to Mr. Fenton.
“What abominable1 weather! St. Quentin hardly thought you would bring the child, and has been abominably2 fidgety all day in consequence. You must both be frozen! Come to the fire!”
A splendid fire of logs was burning at the farther end of the hall, which was divided off by tapestry3 from the entrance. She led the way towards it, talking volubly the whole time; so it was not till they were standing5 by the cheerful blaze, and Lady Frederica had stopped speaking for a moment to look at Sydney, that
[41]
Mr. Fenton had the opportunity of getting in a word. “How is Lord St. Quentin?”
“Oh, much the same, I think,” she answered carelessly. “He is up to-day—I suppose he wanted to see Sydney. Dickson seemed to think he wasn’t quite so well. Dickson is St. Quentin’s man, my dear,” she added, turning to Sydney; “a most invaluable6 creature. I really don’t know what we should do without him, for St. Quentin won’t have a trained nurse. So faddy, but he doesn’t like them. But Dickson is really quite admirable with him, and doesn’t mind his temper—so fortunate—and can read to him, and do all the things which otherwise perhaps might be expected of me. Yes, you are like the family—their eyes, hasn’t she, Mr. Fenton? But you haven’t much of a colour, child!”
“Miss Lisle is very tired, I fear,” suggested Mr. Fenton, looking kindly7 at the girl. “I think, if I might suggest it, a little rest before dinner.... I hear her maid arriving now, I believe.”
“Well, come with me, my dear, and see your room,” said Lady Frederica graciously, laying her hand upon Sydney’s shoulder. “Mr. Fenton, be an angel, and go in and talk to St. Quentin. He is in the library and as
[42]
irritable as can be. I really can’t go near him till he’s in a better humour. Come, Sydney.”
They went together up the wide, shallow staircase, guarded at its foot by two highly realistic-looking stuffed bears—shot by the present marquess in the Rockies some years ago, Lady Frederica explained, in answer to the girl’s shy admiration8.
She had not time to look at the magnificent collection of sheathed9 rapiers which adorned10 the walls of the long corridor through which they next passed. Lady Frederica hurried her along, remarking that she would have plenty of time for studying all “those tiresome11 old historic treasures” by-and-by.
“The castle is simply full of them,” she said. “All the Lisles have been collectors; it is one of their many irritating ways. I hope you haven’t any hobby, my dear?”
“Hobby” was a new word in Sydney’s vocabulary, and she hardly knew how to answer the question. But a reply was the one thing Lady Frederica never wanted, and she went on talking in her clear, high-bred, rather monotonous12 voice until they reached the first of Sydney’s rooms.
“They all open from one another,” she said, as the girl looked round with dazzled eyes.
[43]
“You like them? That’s right. St. Quentin told me to get everything you would require. Your bedroom is the innermost, you see. Then comes your morning-room, where you can do what you like without risk of being interfered13 with. And this last is your school-room—yours, too; till you share it with a governess. How old are you, by the way?”
“I shall be eighteen on the thirty-first of December,” Sydney answered.
“Well, perhaps I shall let you off regular lessons,” Lady Frederica said; “but you must have masters for accomplishments14. I shall tell St. Quentin so. I don’t suppose you learnt much with that doctor—what was his name?—Chichester? Gracious, child, how white you are! I hope you are not going to be delicate! One invalid15 in the castle is quite enough—especially one with a temper like St. Quentin’s. I’ll send your maid to you, and you had better rest a little before dressing16 for dinner. We dine at eight. Au revoir, my dear!”
And Lady Frederica flitted away, leaving Sydney in her new domain17.
She took off her coat, hat, and gloves, and put them tidily away, then knelt down by the bright fire blazing in the dainty tiled grate of her bedroom and looked round it.
[44]
It was certainly a contrast from the little bare room she and Dolly shared at home, where there was no space for anything that was not strictly18 needful. This room was more like a drawing-room than a bedroom, Sydney thought.
The prevailing19 colour was a delicate rose pink; the carpet, soft as velvet20 to her feet, was rose and green; the window-curtains fell to the floor in long, soft folds of rose-silk fringed with gold.
An easy-chair drawn21 invitingly22 to the fire was covered in brocade of the same, and the satin quilt upon the lofty bed was rose and gold.
“It is much too beautiful for me!” thought Sydney, and went through the curtained door into what Lady Frederica had called her morning-room.
A soft moss23 green was the prevailing colour here; Sydney’s weariness was forgotten as she darted24 from the dainty writing-table with its silver-topped ink-stands and chased blotting-case, to the small but perfect piano standing across one corner of the room.
She felt as yet too much a visitor to open it and try its tone, as she would have liked to do, and the next moment had forgotten the
[45]
desire, and had flung herself upon her knees beside the book-case, green and gold to match her room, and full of story-books!
She took out two or three at random25, and “dipped” luxuriously26, half-kneeling, half-sitting, crumpled27 anyhow upon the floor. A whole book-case full of new books to be read! She was a lucky girl. A picture flashed back vividly28 into her mind of the “children’s book-case” at home, where every book had been read and re-read times out of number, and was like an old friend. Oh, if she could only transport all these lovely things into the shabby school-room at home! How Mildred would love the rose-and-gold bedroom—dear Millie, who cared for pretty things so much, and hardly ever had any!
And oh, what raptures29 Dolly would have gone into over that exquisite30 little piano!—Dolly, who had been known to cry, yes, really cry, when trying ineffectually to wile31 some music out of the ancient yellow keys of theirs at home. And how Madge and Fred and Prissie would have loved some—just half-a-dozen—just one, of this profusion32 of new books before her!
It is poor fun to enjoy things all alone! A great tear splotched down upon the blue-and-gold
[46]
cover of the book that Sydney was holding, and left a mark upon it. She dried it hastily, and got up from the floor, just as Ward4 came into the room.
“Would you wish to dress, ma’am? It is half-past seven.”
“Yes, please,” the girl answered, wondering if she ever would have courage to address this dignified33 person familiarly as “Ward.”
It did not seem very possible at present.
Sydney did not own a real evening dress, but Ward managed the plain white nuns-veiling frock which she and Dolly had had just alike for the Christmas parties last year so as to make it look very nice.
It proved to be a little short. “I think perhaps I had better let a tuck down before to-morrow night,” Sydney suggested meekly34, noticing how much slender black ankle showed beneath it.
There was a moment’s pause before Ward answered her with studied calm, “I do not think that will be necessary, ma’am.”
She was dressed in good time, and stood looking rather forlornly at her maid, who was on her knees, unpacking35, with a quite expressionless face, the clothes mother had put in so carefully.
[47]
“Lady Frederica sits in the gold drawing-room this week, ma’am,” Ward said, guessing the reason of the girl’s perplexity; “the second door to the right of the inner hall. Shall I come with you to the stairs, ma’am?” she added, rising.
Sydney thanked her warmly. “I am a little afraid of losing myself here,” she said shyly, at which Ward smiled condescendingly, and said that “Miss Lisle would soon be quite accustomed to the Castle.”
She took the girl to the head of the wide stairs, reiterated36 her instructions, and let Sydney to go down the stairs and through the sombre splendour of the hall, alone.
Although lit by many antique hanging lamps, its immensity made it rather dark, and the suits of armour37 standing in the corners had a very ghost-like appearance. Sydney crossed the black polished floor as fast as its slipperiness would allow, and was about to open the second door on the right, according to her maid’s instructions, when a voice spoke38, not loud, but imperatively39, “Are you Sydney?”
She turned, and saw that a long couch on wheels was drawn up near the great log fire, and that the man upon it had moved his head and was looking at her.
[48]
She crossed the hall again and came to him, putting her hand diffidently into his. “So you are Sydney?” Lord St. Quentin said.
What Sydney saw, as she returned his steady gaze, was a tall man, lying very nearly flat, his head only just raised by a small pillow. His hair was dark brown like her own and his eyes grey; but there the likeness40 ceased. The face was thin, the mouth cynical41, and the sharp line drawn down the middle of his forehead made it strangely different from the girl’s smooth one.
What he saw was a slight girl dressed in white, looking taller than she really was by reason of her slenderness, with a cloud of soft brown hair framing her face and hanging in a long tail down her back; and earnest, pitying, dark grey eyes fixed42 upon him. They looked at each other in silence for a full minute; then St. Quentin released her hand and pointed43 to a low chair by his side.
“You had a cold journey?”
“Not very cold,” said Sydney shyly.
There was a pause. St. Quentin was frowning. Sydney felt that she ought to originate a subject in her turn.
“I hope you are better to-day, Lord St. Quentin?” she got out with an effort.
[49]
Lord St. Quentin stopped frowning, in surprise.
“Thanks, I’m all right,” he said shortly; then added with half a smile, “drop the ‘Lord,’ please—we are cousins!”
“Well, Sydney, so you and St. Quentin have made acquaintance already?” Lady Frederica exclaimed, coming down the stairs as the gong began to sound with a roar like distant thunder. “How clever of you to find each other out! How are you now, my dear boy? Dickson told me you were ‘rather low’: how I hate that expression in the mouth of servants! It always means ill-tempered. Now, my maid can never say I’m ‘low,’ at all events. I make a point of never giving way to low spirits. Ah, Mr. Fenton,” as the old lawyer came into the circle of fire-light, “here you are!—punctual as usual! I have just been telling St. Quentin he shouldn’t give way to low spirits; a mistake, isn’t it? I suppose you will dine in the library, St. Quentin? Shall we see you again to-night?”
“You might come to me in the library for five minutes after dinner, if you will, Aunt Rica,” he answered rather moodily44. “I won’t keep you. Good-night, Sydney.”
“Good-night, Cousin St. Quentin,” the girl
[50]
said. Her cousin’s thin hand took hers for a minute, and she followed Lady Frederica in to dinner.
Sydney thought the meal unending. The long table, the enormous room, the powdered footmen all combined to make her feel strange and very, very homesick. But the dessert had been partaken of at last, and Lady Frederica looked at the girl. “Shall we come, my dear? You’ll join us presently in the gold drawing-room, Mr. Fenton?”
The old lawyer held the door open, and the two passed out to the drawing-room.
“Pull a chair up to the fire, child,” said Lady Frederica with a shiver. “I suppose I must go to St. Quentin: he probably wants to give me some further directions about you. I shan’t be long: my dear nephew is not by any means good company, I can assure you!”
And her grey and silver draperies swept out of the gold drawing-room.
Sydney drew a chair to the fire as she had been told, and sat staring into it with dreamy eyes. Nine o’clock. At this time they all would be in the drawing-room at home, except the little ones in bed. Father would very likely be reading aloud to mother something that had interested him; Madge making doll’s clothes
[51]
in her special corner of the room, with a good many whispered appeals to Mildred over some tiresome garment that would not come right, and Hugh and Hal would be playing one of their interminable games of chess—supposing Hugh had not been called out to see some sick person. Just one chair would be empty, that little dumpy cane45 one in which she usually sat, which creaked so much as to make a never-ceasing joke about “Sydney’s prodigious46 weight”! Sydney’s head sank low, and the fire grew blurred47 when she thought about that little chair. Was it only last night she had been in the dear drawing-room at home with all of them?
When, ten minutes later, the coffee and Mr. Fenton came noiselessly together into the gold drawing-room, the old lawyer found the little heiress leaning back in the great arm-chair by the fire asleep.
He stood looking at her for a moment, and then rang the bell.
“Send Miss Lisle’s maid to her room at once,” he ordered, and then gently woke her.
“Do not be alarmed, my dear young lady; it is only I,” he said. “I was compelled to rouse you, because I am certain you ought to go to bed. I have sent your maid to your
[52]
room, and I strongly advise you to go there immediately without waiting for Lady Frederica’s return. I will explain everything to her.”
Sydney was only too glad to go. “Thank you very much,” she said, holding out her hand to Mr. Fenton. He watched her go slowly up the wide staircase before returning to the drawing-room, where he was joined in a minute by Lady Frederica.
“Went to sleep while you were talking to her, did she?” she laughed. “Dear me, Mr. Fenton, how abominably prosy you must have been! Oh, it was before you came in from the dining-room, was it? Fancy the child finding us so wearying, even in our absence! I must tell St. Quentin that: it will make him shriek48!”
But when she had tripped back into the library where her nephew, his brows drawn very close together, was endeavouring to read, Lord St. Quentin did not seem to find the information she had come to bring him so particularly funny.
“Poor little girl!” was all he said.
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1
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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abominably
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| adv. 可恶地，可恨地，恶劣地 | |
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tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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4
ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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6
invaluable
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| adj.无价的，非常宝贵的，极为贵重的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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8
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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9
sheathed
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| adj.雕塑像下半身包在鞘中的；覆盖的；铠装的；装鞘了的v.将（刀、剑等）插入鞘( sheathe的过去式和过去分词 )；包，覆盖 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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13
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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14
accomplishments
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| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
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15
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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prevailing
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| adj.盛行的；占优势的；主要的 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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invitingly
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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luxuriously
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| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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raptures
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| 极度欢喜( rapture的名词复数 ) | |
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30
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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wile
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| v.诡计，引诱；n.欺骗，欺诈 | |
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profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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35
unpacking
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| n.取出货物，拆包[箱]v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的现在分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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imperatively
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| adv.命令式地 | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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41
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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42
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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43
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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45
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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47
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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