Heriot's Choice Part 15
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'All right; you need not cover yourself with dust and ashes,'
interrupted Roy, with a nervous laugh. 'Ah, confound it, there's Richard! What a fellow he is for turning up at the wrong time.
Good-night, Livy,' he continued, with a pretence at cheerfulness; 'the dews are unwholesome. Pleasant dreams and sweet repose;' but Olive still lingered, regardless of Roy's good-humoured attempts to save an additional scolding.
'Well, what's all this about?' demanded Richard, abruptly.
'It is my fault, as usual, Cardie,' returned Olive, courting her fate with clumsy bravery. 'I upset him by playing that hymn. Of course I ought to have remembered.'
'Culprit, plaintiff, defendant, and judge in one,' groaned Roy. 'Spare us the rest, d.i.c.k, and prove to our young minds that honesty is the best policy.'
But Richard's brow-grew dark. 'This is the second time it has happened; it is too bad, Olive. Not content with hara.s.sing us from morning to night with your s.h.i.+ftless, unwomanly ways, you must make a blunder like this. One's most sacred feelings trampled on mercilessly,--it is unpardonable.'
'Oh, draw it mild, d.i.c.k;' but Roy's lip still quivered; his sensitive nature had evidently received a shock.
'You are too good-natured, Rex. Such cruel heedlessness deserves reproof, but it is all lost on Livy; she will never understand how we feel about these things.'
'Indeed, Cardie----' but Richard sternly checked her.
'There is no use in saying anything more about it. If you are so devoid of tact and feeling, you can at least have the grace to be ashamed of yourself. Come, Roy, a turn in the air will do you good; my head still aches badly. Let us go down over Hillsbottom for a stroll;' and Richard laid his hand persuasively on Roy's shoulder.
Roy shook off his depression with an effort. Mildred fancied his brother's well-meant attempt at consolation jarred on him; but he was of too easy a nature to contend against a stronger will; he hesitated a moment, however.
'We have not said good-night to Livy.'
'Be quick about it, then,' returned Richard, turning on his heel; then remembering himself, 'Good-night, Aunt Milly. I suppose we shall not see you on our return?' but he took no notice of Olive, though she mutely offered her cheek as he pa.s.sed.
'My dear, you will take cold, standing out here with uncovered head,'
Mildred said, pa.s.sing her arm gently through the girl's to draw her to the house; but Olive shook her head, and remained rooted to the spot.
'He never bade me good-night,' she said at last, and then a large tear rolled slowly down her lace.
'Do you mean Richard? He is not himself to-night; something is troubling him, I am sure.' But Mildred felt a little indignation rising, as she thought of her nephew's hardness.
'Rex kissed me, though; and he was the one I hurt. Rex is never hard and unkind. Oh, Aunt Milly, I think Cardie begins to dislike me;' the tears falling faster over her pale cheeks.
'My dear Olive, this is only one of your morbid fancies. It is wrong to say such things--wrong to Richard.'
'Why should I not say what I think? There, do you see them'--pointing to a strip of moonlight beyond the bridge--'he has his arm round Roy, and is talking to him gently. I know his way; he can be, oh so gentle when he likes. He is only hard to me; he is kinder even to Chrissy, who teases him from morning to night; and I do not deserve it, because I love him so;' burying her face in her hands, and weeping convulsively, as no one had ever seen Olive weep before.
'Hush, dear--hush; you are tired and overstrained with the long day's work, or you would not fret so over an impatient word. Richard does not mean to be unkind, but he is domineering by nature, and----'
'No, Aunt Milly, not domineering,' striving to speak between her sobs; 'he thinks so little of himself, and so much of others. He is vexed about Roy's being upset; he is so fond of Roy.'
'Yes, but he has no right to misunderstand his sister so completely.'
'I don't think I am the right sort of sister for him, Aunt Milly. Polly would suit him better: she is so bright and winning; and then he cares so much about looks.'
'Nonsense, Olive: men don't think if their sisters have beauty or not. I mean it does not make any difference in their affection.'
'Ah, it does with Cardie. He thinks Chriss will be pretty, and so he takes more notice of her. He said once it was very hard for a man not to be proud of his sisters; he meant me, I know. He is always finding fault with my hair and my dress, and telling me no woman need be absolutely ugly unless she likes.'
'I can see a gleam in the clouds now. We will please our young taskmaster before we have done.'
Olive smiled faintly, but the tears still came. It was true: she was worn in body and mind. In this state tears are a needful luxury, as Mildred well knew.
'It is not this I mind. Of course one would be beautiful if one could; but I should think it paltry to care,' speaking with mingled simplicity and resignation.
'Mamma told us not to trouble about such things, as it would all be made up to us one day. What I really mind is his thinking I do not share his and Roy's feelings about things.'
'People have different modes of expressing them. You could play that hymn, you see.'
'Yes, and love to do it. When Roy left the room I had forgotten everything. I thought mamma was singing it with us, and it seemed so beautiful.'
'Richard would call that visionary.'
'He would never know;' her voice dropping again into its hopeless key.
'He thinks I am too cold to care much even about that; he does indeed, Aunt Milly:' as Mildred, shocked and distressed, strove to hush her.
'Not that I blame him, because Roy thinks the same. I never talk to any of them as I have done to you these two days.'
'Then we have something tangible on which to lay the blame. You are too reserved with your brothers, Olive. You do not let them see how much you feel about things.' She winced.
'No, I could not bear to be repulsed. I would rather--much rather--be thought cold, than laughed at for a visionary. Would not you, Aunt Milly? It hurts less, I think.'
'And you can hug yourself in the belief that no one has discovered the real Olive. You can shut yourself up in your citadel, while they batter at the outworks. My poor girl, why need you shroud yourself, as though your heart, a loving one, Olive, had some hidden deformity? If Richard had my eyes, he would think differently.'
Olive shook her head.
'My child, you depreciate yourself too much. We have no right to look down on any piece of G.o.d's handiwork. Separate yourself from your faults. Your poor soul suffers for want of cheris.h.i.+ng. It does not deserve such harsh treatment. Why not respect yourself as one whom G.o.d intends to make like unto the angels?'
'Aunt Milly, no one has said such things to me before.'
'Well, dear!'
'It is beautiful--the idea, I mean--it seems to heal the sore place.'
'I meant it to do so. It is not more beautiful than the filial love that can find rest by a mother's grave. Cardie would never think of doing that. When his paroxysms of pain come on him, he vents himself in long solitary walks, or shuts himself up in his room.'
'Aunt Milly, how did you know that? who told you?'
'My own intuition,' returned Mildred, smiling. 'Come, child, it is long past ten. I wonder what Polly and Dr. Heriot have been doing with themselves all this time. Go to sleep and forget all about these troubles;' and Mildred kissed the tear-stained face tenderly as she spoke.
She found Dr. Heriot alone when she entered the drawing-room. He looked up at her rather strangely, she thought. Could he have overheard any of their conversation?
'I was just coming out to warn you of imprudence,' he said, rising and offering her his chair. 'Sit there and rest yourself a little. Do mothers in Israel generally have such tired faces?' regarding her with a grave, inscrutable smile.
He had heard then. Mildred could not help the rising colour that testified to her annoyance.
'Forgive me,' he returned, leaning over the back of her chair, and speaking with the utmost gentleness. 'I did not mean to annoy you, far from it. Your voices just underneath the window reached me occasionally, and I only heard enough to----'
'Well, Dr. Heriot?'
Heriot's Choice Part 15
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Heriot's Choice Part 15 summary
You're reading Heriot's Choice Part 15. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Rosa Nouchette Carey already has 506 views.
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