• 2017/5/16

such a cheerful morning

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The song ceased, and Punch turned himself to look earnestly in Lallie'

Have you seen him?

Well, no, I can't say I have, but then I've never been there just at that time.

Sing it again, Punch suggested sweetly.

NO, NO, NO, Mrs. Wentworth cried sternly; Punch must go to bed this instant.

I said I would if she singed it, an' I will, said Punch. Lallie can carry me.

NO, NO, NO, said another voice, and Punch's father came into the room. You're far too heavy for Miss Lallie, I'll take you; but I'd like to know what you mean by being awake at this hour, and how you manage to get young ladies to sing for you?

I came over, Lallie replied hastily; I was lonely and he was awake, and worrying because no one could sing St. Kevin, so I sang it, and I have enjoyed myself so much, but I must fly back now. Good-night, you darling Punch.

Dr. Wentworth escorted Lallie back to B. House, and to this day does not know that she was feshed. Neither did Miss Foster, for she was upstairs discussing the probability of an outbreak of chicken-pox with Matron when Lallie was feshed; and finding the drawing-room untenanted on her return, concluded that Lallie had gone to bed, and went herself in something of a huff. It was one thing for her to leave Lallie for the whole evening, but it was quite another matter for Lallie to retire without bidding her a ceremonious good-night. Lallie crept in at the side door--Ford had left it unbolted for her--and went upstairs by the back staircase.

Punch, warm and soft, with that indescribably delicious perfume of clean flannel and violet powder that pervades cherished infancy, had filled her heart with charity and loving-kindness towards all the world.

I was a pig about the stairs, she said to herself; I'll use these for the future. Perhaps if I try to be less tiresome she'll not dislike me so much. Oh, dear, why is it so easy to do what some people want? Now if Mrs. Wentworth asked me to climb up a ladder every time I went to my room I'd do it joyfully, and poor Miss Foster asks me to use a good wooden staircase when it's a dirty day and it seems utterly impossible to do it. I'll really try and be nice to her--but she won't let me. Never mind, I can but try.
CHAPTER XII
Next morning Lallie went into the town between twelve and one. She had a real and legitimate errand, inasmuch as she needed more silk for the waistcoat she was working for Tony.

Since Mrs. Wentworth's remonstrance she had never once walked down the promenade alone between twelve and one, and to-day she felt particularly virtuous and light-hearted. She would go straight to the shop, match the silk, and come home at once. I'll walk up and down with nobody, she said to herself, not even if the band's playing 'Carmen.'

As it happened macau hotel jobs , the band was playing selections from The Merry Widow when she reached the shops, and she was not tempted to break her good resolutions, for she met no friends at all until she had bought her silks. I'll go just to the bottom of the promenade and walk up again, she thought, it's such a cheerful morning.

It was. The sun shone as it sometimes will shine at the beginning of the gloomiest month. The air was soft and humid, and though the roads were shocking the wide pavement of Hamchester promenade was clean. Lallie looked down anxiously at her shapely strong brown boots. No, they had not suffered; they were smart and trim, and did no shame to the well-hung short skirt above them. She squared her shoulders, held her head very high, and strolled along serene in the assurance that in all essentials she presented a creditable appearance. So evidently thought a young man coming up the promenade towards her.

 

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