"I declare it's a shame," cried Emily throwing a letter on the table. "I can't think what Everard means, it's positively1 unkind, I shall write and tell him so," she continued endeavoring in vain to repress the tears of vexation that would not be restrained. "I would not have believed it of him, indeed I would not--what will Harry2 think, I should like to know."
"What is the matter," asked Grace and Isabel at the same time.
"Read this and you will see," she replied--Grace read--
DEAR EMILY,--You will, I know, be sorry to hear that I cannot be home for the Xmas. festivities, nor for the wedding; I am as sorry as you can possibly be, dear Emmy, but circumstances, over which I have no control, make it imperitive that I should remain away, therefore, pray forgive my absence, nor think it unkind.
"It is outrageous3" said Grace folding the letter carefully. "Mamma will not allow it I am certain, and I cannot imagine any reason that could prevent him coming if he chose. You had better get mamma or papa to write, people will think it so strange."
"I don't care what people think, it's Harry and ourselves" replied Emily hotly, "I will write and tell him that I won't be married this Xmas. if he don't come--'there.'
"How absurd" returned Grace contemptuously.
"Do you mean it" inquired Isabel gravely.
"Oh that is another thing" replied Emily coloring, but I shall say so, and try the effect."
"It cannot be his wish to stay away" said Isabel thoughtfully.
"It is the strangest thing I ever knew," replied Grace.
"Isabel felt very uncomfortable, for somehow she could not help thinking that she might be the cause, (as, once, Everard had been very near the forbidden subject, saying that it was quite a punishment to be under the same roof, unless there was some change in their position, toward each other.
"She was sorry that he had not said so before Isabel had replied, and that very day, told Mrs. Arlington that she wished to leave, as soon as she could meet with another governess. Mrs. Arlington asked her reasons. But Miss Leicester would give none. Then Mrs. Arlington requested that Miss Leicester would reconsider the matter, but Miss Leicester refused to do so. Then Mrs. Arlington insisted, saying that she would except her resignation, if at the end of the week she still wished it, though they would all be sorry to part with her.
Everard of course heard what had taken place, and immediately made it his business to alter that young lady's determination, protesting that he had said nothing to make her pursue such a course. He forced her to admit that it was solely4 on his account that she was leaving, and then talked her into consenting to withdraw her resignation at the end of the week, promising5 to be more careful not to offend in future.) She wished very much that she could spend this Xmas. with Mrs. Arnold, but this was impossible, as she had promised Emily to be bridesmaid.
"Then you don't think it would do to say that," Emily said inquiringly.
"It would seem childish" returned Isabel.
"And have no effect," added Grace.
"Decidedly," said Isabel laughing.
"The begging and praying style, might answer" returned Grace scornfully, "he always likes to be made a fuss with, and all that nonsense, if the children do but kiss him, and call him a dear kind brother and such like rubbish, he will do almost anything."
Now Grace don't say the children, when you mean me, interposed Emily, I will not hear a word against Evvie, so don't be cross. I know you always were a little jealous of his partiality for me."
"I am not cross, nor did I say anything against Everard," retorted Grace haughtily7 "and as for partiality, where is the favouritism now."
"Oh well, I shall write such a letter that he can't but come."
"I wish you success with all my heart," returned Grace more good naturedly, while Isabel gazed silently out of the window.
* * * * * * * *
"No answer to my letter yet, is it not strange said Emily as she joined Isabel in her favourite retreat, the conservatory8, "what do you think about it, it makes me positively unhappy."
"Shall I tell you what I think" asked Isabel passing her arm round Emily and continuing her walk.
"Do please, for you can't think how disagreeable it is, when Harry asks, when Everard is coming, to have to give the same stupid answer, I expect to hear every day."
"I don't think you will."
"Oh Isabel."
"No, I do not think he will write, but just quietly walk in one of these days!"
"Do you really think so," asked Emily, her face radiant.
Isabel gave an affirmative nod.
"What makes you think so, Isabel?"
"I don't know, but I feel sure he will," she replied, turning away her face.
"Isabel."
"Well, dear," said Isabel, with heightening color, still keeping her face turned away, "tell me, was it because of you that Everard would not come home."
"I don't know."
"Then you think, perhaps, it may be."
"It is very foolish to think so."
"Then you do think so," said Emily, archly.
"Oh, miss, I have found you out at last. What a sly one you are. I have been watching you a long time, and thought you all unconscious how it was with a certain party who shall be nameless. Oh I'm so glad."
"Glad that your brother is so unhappy?" Oh, Emily!
"No; glad that he need be so no longer."
"How do you mean?"
"You run on too fast."
"Oh, not much. I found out how it was on his part long ago, and I shall not be long before I tell him the result of my observations elsewhere."
"Tell him what?" asked Isabel, aghast,
"Emily, Emily! what are you saying--what do you mean?"
"You never mean to say that you intend to--"
"Oh, but I do, though."
"Emily, if you dare!" cried Isabel, indignantly.
"Ah, but I shall."
"You shall not," said Isabel, grasping her arm, "you do not know what you are about."
"Stop a moment; what is it you intend to tell him?"
"Only what I have found out--that all is as he wishes, so he need not be afraid."
"You have not found out any such thing."
"Oh, have I not though?"
"Decidedly not. All you have discovered is, that I had some foolish idea that it might possibly be on my account that he was not coming home. That is all you could honestly tell him, and you will do more harm than good if you do; depend upon it, you will only make matters worse by interfering13."
"Well, if it is to do no good, I would rather that he did not know I had found out his secret, but keep it as I have done."
"Since when?" asked Isabel.
"Last spring, when we had to leave you on the rock, but of course I did not let him see it."
"Then do not enlighten him now, you will only make him uncomfortable."
"You are right, but come tell me since when did you know."
"I have known a long time."
"But does he think you know."
Isabel was silent.
"Come, miss, how did you find out?"
"Don't, Emily," said Isabel, entreatingly14.
"How did you know--did he tell you?"
"Is this generous?" asked Isabel, with burning cheeks."
"You don't mean to say that you refused him?" said Emily, turning her blue eyes full upon Isabel, "that would be too cruel."
"I see how it is now. Oh, Isabel, how could you?"
"Remember, Emily, I have told you nothing; you have found out my secret; keep it better than you did your brother's."
"Oh, Isabel, I am sure I kept that well enough."
"Not so well as you must keep this. I am very, very sorry, for I feel that I have not been sufficiently16 watchful17, or you would I not have suspected it. And he would be justly angry if he knew."
"Well, under the circumstances it would make no difference to you if he was."
Isabel bit her lip and was silent, then said, "Emily, dear Emily, promise me that you will try to forget this conversation, and never mention it to any one."
"But Isabel when was it."
"I will answer no questions on that subject" more than enough has been said already.
"What a rage Grace would be in, if she knew, well, well, I have my own ideas."
"Have you indeed, and pray what would Grace be in a rage about if she knew," asked a well known voice close to them.
Both young ladies started and crimsoned18. "You see Emmy I could not resist that letter, so here I am for a few days."
"Isabel was right" cried Emily triumphantly19, "she said you would come quietly in, one of these days."
"What made you think so," he asked.
"I felt sure of it, I cannot tell why, but I had a presentiment20 that you would."
"May I hope that the wish was the origin of the thought," he said in a low tone, as Emily turned to caress21 his dog, Hector.
"Certainly" she answered laughing. "I would not have Emily disappointed on any account."
"Such a true prophet ought to be rewarded, don't you think so Emily," said Everard presenting Isabel with the first and only flower of a rare foreign plant.
"I cannot accept it," replied Isabel, "the reward is more than the prediction was worth."
"Oh no, it is not, I am sure you earned it," cried Emily clapping her hands, and running off with Hector for a romp22.
"Surely you will not refuse a flower" said Everard.
"But why that flower."
"Because it is the best."
"For that very reason, I cannot accept it."
"You are over scrupulous23 Miss Leicester."
He looked hurt, "you will not refuse" he urged.
"I dare not accept it."
"Why."
"What would they think."
"If the truth,----, that the flower I valued most, I gave to the one I loved best."
"Are you not venturing on forbidden grounds" asked Isabel with glowing cheeks.
"Isabel you are cruel."
"I do not wish to pain you."
"Then accept my flower."
"No, were I to do so, I could only take it to your mother saying that you wished it preserved."
"Would you do so Isabel," he exclaimed reproachfully.
"I should be obliged to do so, if I took it."
"Is it only this one you refuse."
"Or any other equally valuable and scarce."
"Miss Leicester if you please sir," she replied as she took the flowers, and hastened to the schoolroom. While Everard stood for a moment lost in thought, then went to pay his respects to his mother, and present the rejected flower, to the bride elect.
This was the last evening they would be alone, to-morrow the guests were to arrive. Isabel did not always join them at dinner, and this evening she intended to spend in the schoolroom to finish the reports, which Mr. Arlington always liked to have when the holidays began, giving the children leave to go in the drawing-room. But the best plans cannot always be carried out. Isabel received a message from Mrs. Arlington requesting her to join them at dinner, accompanied by a threat from Harry, that if she did not they would all adjourn27 to the schoolroom, of course she had to comply. However the evening passed off very pleasantly, Everard was so much occupied with his mother and sisters, that with the exception of making her sing all his favourite songs, he paid even less than usual attention to Isabel.
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1
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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2
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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3
outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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4
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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5
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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6
coaxing
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的现在分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱；“锻炼”效应 | |
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7
haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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8
conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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9
obtuse
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| adj.钝的；愚钝的 | |
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10
saucily
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| adv.傲慢地，莽撞地 | |
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11
saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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12
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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13
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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14
entreatingly
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| 哀求地，乞求地 | |
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15
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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17
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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18
crimsoned
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| 变为深红色（crimson的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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19
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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20
presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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21
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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22
romp
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| n.欢闹；v.嬉闹玩笑 | |
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23
scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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24
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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25
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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26
bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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27
adjourn
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| v.（使）休会，（使）休庭 | |
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