Daisy Burns Volume I Part 27

"And how fond of her sister!"

"She is wrapt up in her."

"And yet she is much more beautiful, is she not, Cornelius?" I added, again looking down into the garden, where the sisters now sat in the bower. Cornelius left his easel to come and look too.

"Nonsense, child!" he replied, smiling, "the little one is much the prettier of the two. Ask Kate," he added, as the door opened, and his sister entered.

"Humph," said Miss O'Reilly, on being appealed to, "your eyes are better than mine, Cornelius, to see the difference at this distance; but I think Miss Ducky a pretty little roly-poly thing, and her sister a fine woman, though rather icy."

"Roly-poly!" indignantly echoed Cornelius, "why, Kate, she is exquisitely pretty!"

"Don't you fear the child may take cold?" said Miss O'Reilly, coming up to the window, which she closed with a mistrustful look, that seemed to say to it--"I wish _you_ were not there."

I spent about an hour more with Cornelius, who did his best to entertain me, by talking of the gallery, then took me back to my room, where Kate kept me company. I questioned her concerning Miss Russell, but learned little. She supposed it was very kind of her to come, though to be sure I did not want her; and cool people were often peculiar; and other things which I did not understand. I asked if any one else had come.

"Mr. Smalley, who has been disappointed of the Dorsetshire curacy after all, and Mr. Trim came several times."

"I hope Mr. Trim did not kiss me," I said, uneasily, for this amiable individual still persisted in being affectionate to me.

"Nonsense, child, I promise you they were more taken up in looking at Miss Russell, than in thinking of you. Sleep, for they are to come this evening, and I know Cornelius would like to take you down for an hour."

I did my best to gratify her, and soon succeeded, and the same evening I was dressed and wrapped up, or rather swathed like a mummy, said Cornelius, as he carried me down in his arms. He had scarcely laid me on the couch in the parlour, when Deborah announced "Miss Russell."

A pretty head, with drooping ringlets, peeped in, and as suddenly vanished.

"Pray come in, Miss Russell," said Kate, rising.

"You are engaged," lisped a soft voice behind the door.

"Not at all, pray come in."

"You--you are at tea, then."

"We shall not have tea for an hour, pray come in."

"I would rather come some other time," said the little voice, still speaking from the door, but rather more faintly.

"Surely my brother does not frighten you?"

"Oh no," faltered the timid speaker, in a tone that said, "Oh dear yes, precisely."

Kate rose and walked to the door. We heard a giggle, a little suppressed denial, and finally saw Miss O'Reilly re-enter the parlour and lead in the bashful creature. Miss Ducky was in a state of bewitching confusion and under-her-breath modesty. "She came to know how the little girl was-- so glad she was well again. Sit down! Oh no, she would rather be excused."

She spoke with girlish fluency of easy speech, with many a gentle toss of the glossy curls, and glancing of the bright dark eyes that looked everywhere save in the direction of Cornelius. Kate was vainly pressing her to sit down, when the fair creature was further alarmed by the entrance of Mr. Smalley and Mr. Trim. In her confusion she flew to the bow window instead of the door--"was astonished at the mistake--so absurd--quite stupid, you know," and stood there blushing most charmingly, when Kate at length persuaded her to sit down. By this time I had received the congratulations of Mr. Smalley and Mr. Trim, both of whom looked with some interest and curiosity at Miss Ducky.

There never was such a little flirt. The introduction was scarcely over when she attacked Mr. Trim with a look, Mr. Smalley with a smile, and Cornelius with look, smile, and speech, and having thus hooked them, she went on with the three to her own evident enjoyment and delight. Mr.

Trim, whom the ladies had not accustomed to such favours, seemed exulting, and indulged in the most unbounded admiration. After warning Miss Ducky that she need not mind him, he edged his chair nearer to hers, and peering in her face, asked to know the number of hearts she had broken.

"I broke a cornelian heart the other day," she replied, demurely; "I was so sorry."

"Could it not be mended?" innocently asked Mr. Smalley.

"I don't know," she answered, childishly, "I did not try; I used to wear it round my neck--it is in a drawer now."

"Poor heart!" compa.s.sionately said Cornelius.

She laughed, and gaily shook her curls, but suddenly became as mute as a mouse, and, with the frightened glance of a child taken at fault, she looked at the door, on the threshold of which her sister now stood unannounced.

Miriam entered quietly, pa.s.sing by Cornelius and me without giving either a look, and apologized to Kate for her intrusion; but Miss Ducky had, it seemed, been suddenly missed, to the great alarm of her relatives, whom the sound of her voice next door had alone relieved from their painful apprehensions. Miss Ducky heard all this with downcast eyes and a penitent face, and stood ready to follow her sister, who had pertinaciously refused to take a seat. Mr. Trim seemed rather anxious to detain them, and, bending forward with his hands on his knees to catch a look of Miriam's beautiful face, he said--

"Your sister, Ma'am, was telling us of the hearts--"

"I only spoke of the cornelian," interrupted Ducky, looking alarmed.

Miriam looked through Mr. Trim with her calm blue eyes, bade Miss O'Reilly good evening, smiled at Mr. Smalley, who coloured, then leading away her sister, she again pa.s.sed by Cornelius and me with a chilling bend of the head.

"Pretty girl!" said Mr. Trim, shutting his eyes as the door closed upon them.

"Has she not very cla.s.sical features?" observed Mr. Smalley, seeming surprised.

"Oh, you mean the fair one," sneered Mr. Trim. "It is very well for you, Smalley, a clergyman, to admire a girl who is as proud as Lucifer, just because she has a Greek nose--"

"I admire Miss Russell," interrupted Mr Smalley, reddening, "because the first time I saw her she was fulfilling that precept of our Divine Lord, which enjoins that the sick shall be visited and the afflicted comforted."

"Every man to his taste," replied Mr. Trim. "I like that pretty little thing best, and so would Cornelius, if he were not such a confirmed woman-hater. Ha! ha!"

"I hope not," said Mr. Smalley, looking with mild surprise at Cornelius, who did not repel the accusation, but seemed absorbed in my request of being taken upstairs again. I was still weak, and the talking made my head ache. I bade our two visitors good-night, and again had to resist Mr. Trim's attempt to embrace me. I believe he knew how much I disliked his ugly face, and would have found a malicious pleasure--I now acquit him of caring for the kiss--in compelling mine to endure its proximity.

As I saw it bend towards me, grinning, I screamed, and took refuge in the arms of Cornelius, who said, a little impatiently--

"Do let that child alone, Trim."

Mr. Trim went back to his chair, saying, mournfully, "he never had luck with the ladies, whereas Cornelius, being a handsome, dashing young fellow, and Smalley rather wild--a thing women always liked--"

I lost the rest, for Cornelius, who was carrying me out of the room, shut the door, muttering something in which "Trim" and "insolence" were all I could hear distinctly.

Two days after this, I was well enough to be carried down to the garden in the arms of Cornelius, who sacrificed an hour of daylight to sitting by me on the bench. It was a warm and pleasant noon, and I was enjoying the delightful sense of existence which recovery from illness yields, when Miriam Russell suddenly appeared before us. She always had a noiseless step and had come down the steps from the porch so quietly that we had never heard her. I saw the blood rush to the brow of Cornelius, and felt the hand which mine clasped, tremble slightly. Miss Russell looked very calm; she asked me how I was; I replied. "Very well," and thanked her, in a low tone. Her statue-like beauty repelled the very idea of familiarity; her white chiselled features had the purity and coldness of sculptured marble; her face was faultless in outline, but it was too colourless, and her eyes, though fine and clear, were of a blue too pale.

She gave me a careless look, then said to Cornelius, after refusing to be seated--

"You have kept your child."

"She is still very weak."

"Never mind, she will grow like my child yet."

Cornelius liked me too well not to be partial.

"Yes, she would be pretty if she were not so pale," he replied.