Volume Ii Part 26 (1/2)
”Wretched! This beautiful snow! Here have I been enjoying it for this hour.”
But Florence rubbed her hands, and looked as if Fleda were no rule for other people.
”How horrid it will make the going out to-night, if it snows all day!”
”Then you, can stay at home,” said her mother, composedly.
”Indeed I shall not, Mamma.”
”Mamma,” said Constance, now coming in with Edith, ”isn't breakfast ready? It strikes me that the fowling-piece wants polis.h.i.+ng up. I have an indistinct impression that the sun would be upon the meridian, if he was anywhere.”
”Not quite so bad as that,” said Fleda, smiling; ”it is only an hour and a half since I came down stairs.”
”You horrid little creature! ? Mamma, I consider it an act of inhospitality to permit studious habits on the part of your guests. And I am surprised your ordinary sagacity has not discovered that it is the greatest impolicy towards the objects of your maternal care. We are labouring under growing disadvantages; for when we have brought the enemy to, at long shot, there is a mean little craft that comes in and unmans him, in a close fight, before we can get our speaking-trumpets up.”
”Constance! ? do hus.h.!.+” said her sister. ”You are too absurd.”
”Fact,” said Constance, gravely. ”Captain Lewiston was telling me the other night how the thing is managed; and I recognised it immediately, and told him I had often seen it done.”
”Hold your tongue, Constance,” said her mother, smiling, ”and come to breakfast.”
Half, and but half, of the mandate the young lady had any idea of obeying.
”I can't imagine what you are talking about, Constance,” said Edith.
”And then, being a friend, you see,” pursued Constance, ”we can do nothing but fire a salute, instead of demolis.h.i.+ng her.”
”Can't you!” said Fleda. ”I am sure many a time I have felt as if you had left me nothing but my colours.”
”Except your prizes, my dear. I am sure I don't know about your being a friend, either, for I have observed that you engage English and American alike.”
”She is getting up her colours now,” said Mrs. Evelyn, in mock gravity ? ”you call tell what she is.”
”Blood-red!” said Constance. ”A pirate! ? I thought so,” she exclaimed, with an ecstatic gesture. ”I shall make it my business to warn everybody.”
”Oh, Constance!” said Fleda, burying her face in her hands.
But they all laughed.
”Fleda, my dear, I would box her ears,” said Mrs. Evelyn, commanding herself. It is a mere envious insinuation ? I have always understood those were the most successful colours carried.”
”Dear Mrs. Evelyn!” ?
”My dear Fleda, that is not a hot roll ? you shan't eat it ?
take this. Florence, give her a piece of the bacon ? Fleda, my dear, it is good for the digestion ? you must try it.
Constance was quite mistaken in supposing yours were those obnoxious colours ? there is too much white with the red ? it is more like a very different flag.”
”Like what, then, Mamma!” said Constance; ”a good American would have blue in it.”
”You may keep the American yourself,” said her mother.
”Only,” said Fleda, trying to recover herself, ”there is a slight irregularity; with you the stars are blue and the ground white.”