She gazed round the table with increasing satisfaction.
Louis, who was awkwardly fixed with regard to the light, the shadow
of his bust falling always across his plate, had borne that real
annoyance with the most charming good-humour. He was a delight to the
eye; he had excellent qualities, especially social qualities. Rachel
sat opposite to the hostess--an admirable girl in most ways,
a splendid companion, and a sound cook. The meal had been
irreproachable, and in the phrase of the _Signal_ "ample justice
had been done" to it. Julian was on the hostess's left, with his
back to the window and to the draught. A good boy, a sterling boy, if
peculiar! And there they were all close together, intimate, familiar,
mutually respecting; and the perfect parlour was round about them: a
domestic organism, honest, dignified, worthy, more than comfortable.
And she, Elizabeth Maldon, in her old age, was the head of it, and the
fount of good things.
"Thank ye!" ejaculated Julian, with a queer look askance at his
benefactor. "Thank ye, aunt!"
It was all he could get out of his throat, and it was all that was
expected of him. He hated to give thanks--and he hated to be thanked.
The grandeur of the present flattered him.
Pages:
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85