He spoils me,
like a dear, generous-hearted fellow as he is. Ah, Octavia, what can
I do for you?"
"Nothing, thank you. I want to recall myself to Mrs. Snowdon's memory,
if she will let me."
"No need of that; I never forget happy faces and pretty pictures. Two
years ago I saw you at your first ball, and longed to be a girl again."
As she spoke, Mrs. Snowdon pressed the hand shyly offered, and smiled at
the spirited face before her, though the shadow in her own eyes deepened
as she met the bright glance of the girl.
"How kind you were that night! I remember you let me chatter away about
my family, my cousin, and my foolish little affairs with the sweetest
patience, and made me very happy by your interest. I was homesick, and
Aunt could never bear to hear of those things. It was before your
marriage, and all the kinder, for you were the queen of the night, yet
had a word for poor little me."
Mrs. Snowdon was pale to the lips, and Maurice impatiently tapped the
arm of his chair, while the girl innocently chatted on.
"I am sorry the general is such an invalid; yet I dare say you find
great happiness in taking care of him. It is so pleasant to be of use to
those we love." And as she spoke, Octavia leaned over her cousin to hand
him the glove he had dropped.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25