Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
'You - are - out early, Miss Spenlow,' said I. 'It's so stupid at home,' she replied, 'and Miss Murdstone is so absurd! She talks such nonsense about its being necessary for the day to be aired, before I come out. Aired!' (She laughed, here, in the most melodious manner.) 'On a Sunday morning, when I don't practise, I must do something. So I told papa last night I must come out. Besides, it's the brightest time of the whole day. Don't you think so?' I hazarded a bold flight, and said (not without stammering) that it was very bright to me then, though it had been very dark to me a minute before. 'Do you mean a compliment?' said Dora, 'or that the weather has really changed?' I stammered worse than before, in replying that I meant no compliment, but the plain truth; though I was not aware of any change having taken place in the weather. It was in the state of my own feelings, I added bashfully: to clench the explanation. I never saw such curls - how could I, for there never were such curls! - as those she shook out to hide her blushes. As to the straw hat and blue ribbons which was on the top of the curls, if I could only have hung it up in my room in Buckingham Street, what a priceless possession it would have been! 'You have just come home from Paris,' said I. 'Yes,' said she. 'Have you ever been there?' 'No.' 'Oh! I hope you'll go soon! You would like it so much!' Traces of deep-seated anguish appeared in my countenance. That she should hope I would go, that she should think it possible I could go, was insupportable. I depreciated Paris; I depreciated France. I said I wouldn't leave England, under existing circumstances, for any earthly consideration. Nothing should induce me. In short, she was shaking the curls again, when the little dog came running along the walk to our relief. He was mortally jealous of me, and persisted in barking at me. She |