I would rather have her here in rags,' said
Mrs Prothero, bursting afresh into tears.
'She's more likely to be here in satins and velvets, cousin,' said Mrs
Jenkins, rising from her seat, and walking up and down, apparently in
great wrath. 'What you think of my Howels and your Netta at Abertewey:
And you to be all toalking as if we wos ail dirt. And they in France,
over the sea, where I 'ould be going with them only I am so 'fraid of
the water.'
'There's a loss it would be, Aunt 'Lizbeth, if anything had happened to
you! Suppose a shark had swallowed you up! gold watch, mourning ring,
silk gown, brooch, and all? Those creatures aren't particular. But we
haven't had all Netta's message yet.'
'She was sending her kind love and duty to you, cousin, and was saying
she was sorry to be leaving you, but my Howels was so kind as you, and
she was as happy as could be.'
'Did she cry, cousin? did she shed one tear?' asked Mrs Prothero,
sitting up in bed, and looking at Mrs Jenkins with a quick, wild eye,
quite unlike her usual quiet glance.
'You needn't be looking at me so fierce, cousin, I didn't be killing
Netta. Is seure--she did cry enough, if that's a pleasure to you. She
was crying when she was meeting my Howels; she was crying when she was
putting on her wedding gown; she was crying when the parson was
preaching that sermon, and when the thunder and lightning did frighten
her, seure, and no wonder--'
'Did it thunder and lighten when they were married? 'asked Mrs Prothero,
through her sobs.
Pages:
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255