The White Peacock
last he stayed away from her. She had been several times down to the mill, but because she fancied they were very familiar, receiving her on to their rough plane like one o
ife, sat down in the window sill to think, and her strong teeth bit at her handkerchief till it
he hills, and the roads were black and deep with mud. The trees in the wood slouched sulkily. It was a day to be shut out and ignored if possible. I heaped up the
id?" she sa
st brought in t
the mirror, lifted her hair, all curled by the fog, and stared haughtily a
rom the dining-room, that Rebecca went first to
you r
y," said Lettie coldly. Rebecca loo
-past four. I c
hearing the clink
was unlacing her boots, "and d
the mud," wa
hat a state for your boots!-and your skirts too,
," said Lettie-but mot
t was on the tip of our tongues to ask Lettie what ailed her, b
, I met Lesl
ntatively, "Did he c
not look
t was speaking volumes; then,
he did no
stony British
uldn't have made such a babyish show of
o show-he still may
imation was extravagant. He need not have troub
very cross
k all this way home, and he could take up
he dr
her toast into strips vic
of him, wasn'
, you have tre
mean, manly baby! M
mother, "do not kn
p quality,
ettie, "he is a mean f
ere in a bad humour. Mother smiled at me, sighed, and proceeded to Mr. Gla
m my mother, concerning a bazaar in process at the chur
om Eberwich ended at Nethermere; their yellow blur on the
lay in a great armchair by the fire, immune among clouds of blue smoke. Marie was perched on the steps, a great volume on her kne
d Leslie says he's not a pastry cook, though I'm sure I
s the
he big volume a lit
they're not in my cookery book, and I've looked through page upon page of the encyclopedia, right through 'Spain,' and there's nothing yet, and there
t them for
est, but I had fairly set my heart on t
ely. Suppose I g
both out-William has gone to meet father-and mother has sent George to carry some things to the vicarage. I can't ask one of
slie,"
s," she replied
ot deign
you Le
ha
to Woodsi
at
Do, there's
are t
th engaged-t
a girl
ike this? W
is
r. Isn't he mean, C
to do. Mother is reading, and Lettie is stitching. T
oking at me softly. Then she put aw
" she said, laying her
reluctantly. "There's no end to
is overcoat. He put one arm slowly in the sleeve, and then t
ptoe, "You are a great creature! C
hair to stand
e coat sharply, but he sto
bad. I can't get it
coat and je
giving him his cap.
ty night!" said he
s," s
's better than this
d you enjoy
e plainly the cry of some night birds over Nethermere, and the peevish, wailing, yarling cry of so
ed mother, "I am
Lettie, who sat with her lap fu
r hand, adorned as it was by the thimble. "How ni
claimed, the
joyed yourself,"
sely,
le through the new stuff. Then
the air of a man who ha
o you
I say embarrassed-look. D
said m
ask him questions," Lettie conc
her cotton, and was trying
g this miserable weather
'Ever of thee I'm fo-o-ondly dreēam
't know. We imagined him al
k him to roar his old roars
they like?
dove, to judge from your present
ed uncom
suddenly beginning
ssy cat, where
London to see
sy cat, what d
little mouse
Poor mouse!-but I guess she's none the
London," he repl
m between her teeth. "I suppose you don't m
ere she was," he
hought perhaps you had met her in
ght," he
you come and
at the offi
Eberwich," she
ve
of it. I thought I might see you
up secretly to watch his face red
e is near; when it is someone one has a sympathy with." She continued to stitch, then she
t--" another pause, another fixing, a pin
ce till rather lat
away calmly
outh again, fixed down a fo
ittle
ut of the room fo
She stitched swiftly and unerringly. There
me for the pleasure of pl
d, looking up for the first
didn't want me I
roke the silence for some mome
you think I
hether you wanted me o
use bad language. It is the privil
you begin it
ember--" she
ed sarca
so beastly cut
refused to speak, and went on stitching. He fidgeted about
-have we
. She could fix the cloth, regard it quizzically, rearrange it, settle dow
so this a
, Lettie, can'
the question
get it,"
e call like an eager hound. He crossed quickly to h
ething for me, d
ated kindly, a sort
you know, haven't you? You kn
reproof, the sweetest of surrenders and forgiveness. He leaned
a littl
wing in her lap
was late, and about ten o'clock we stood at the window
ung on flaccid stalks, pinched at the neck. The grass plot was strewn with fallen leaves, wet and brilliant: scarlet splashes of Virginia creeper, golden drift from the limes, ruddy brown shawls under the beeches, and away bac
" said Lett
an old grey holly tree on the edge of the clearing. He flapped again, recovered
er our noses," said Lettie petulantly.
or mine?
ing at me,
pupil of his eye at this
ined to take this omen unto
sorrow, tw
letter, fo
ilver, six
or a secret
ance. There'll be three more shortly, and
y, but whenever I've particularly noticed
u notice fou
eply. "She declares an old crow croaked in their appl
ow for her,
omehow I laughed. She hoped he had gone to heaven-but-I'm si
rry!" I
een an old nuisance, Syb. I can't understand why women marry such men. I felt downr
protecting herself from the cold window pane. The wet, grey wind shook the half naked trees, whose leaves
in front of the house, staying near the old forerunner. Lettie watched them, half amused, half melancholy. One bird was carried
your fourt
m down. He swept in level flight down the stream, outspread and still, as if fixed in despair. I grieved for him. Sadly two of his fellows rose and were carr
say 'Nevermor
oked a trifle lugubrious. Then she continue
" I a
now. Fancy thi
at Leslie would come-now she began t
t and opened the door. He came in. She gave him one b
-I have been awfully rude to le
adful day!"
e is red, Lettie! What
into th
did yo
wouldn't come
e were silent
pecting me?"
new you'
r and put his arm around her, as she s
me," he ple
she m
, again and again, till she was out of breath, an
" he said, laughing into her eyes. He saw her te
!"-he put his face to her's a
e," he said, gentl
rs rising up from my heart and throat. They are quite pain
r long while, she came upstairs and found mother-and a
ed to have lost my substance, to have become detached from concrete things and the firm trodden pavement of everyday life. Onward, a
-pane shivered with running water. Then I found it had ceased to rain; that there was a sickly yellow gleam of sunlight, brightening
hink of it all
half winged bird as I was, incomprehensible,
a raven could ans
him. He turned uneasily; he rose, waved his wings as i
aid I, "you won't he
nd, yet never ceased to complain of it. They enjoyed the struggle, and lamented it in wild lament, through which came a sound of exultation. All the lapwings
d find it bitter, but they wouldn't like to m
pped his wings, and launched off, uttering one "Ca
I was very cold, s
f those loose curls that always dance f
wines round my finger. Do you know, your hair-th
won't be kept in b
it brushes my face-so-and s
and I'll tell you what
ll-tel
d-anemones, till they run panting and swaying right up to our wall. Like the ringing of blue
with rapturo
usic, sir,"
es did I throw?"
exclaimed, h
vingly upon her, "this Atalanta-I belie
aresses. "It was you-the apples of your firm heels-the
s of your cheeks, and your breasts, and your very fists-they can't stop me-
d wickedl
ose-tho
dmits it-e
reathe. Did you c
d you ga
Everythi
ry a
ow you
look
ye. Suppose now we
r-a slop
w-suppose I were one-lik
warm b
ed Damosel' and you kicking the b
e you dr
hinking-thought
ask that for? Oh-I thi
rayers-that your thin
aelities. You-You're not a Burne-Jonesess-you're an Albert Moore. I think there'
en you
feel my arms full of you; I'd rather touch that red mou
never sing hymns
ou here-yes, I
is but a f
ud, my fawn. There's a nice Carmen about a fawn. 'Time to leave its mothe
oor old
forget you. What's that
t is
uch a tease, there's no get
hom the dept
ll-I
while
be properly e
Christmas-till
e months! Wh
I shall be able to choose the
hree m
engaged-it doesn't matt
ould be married
te--. But what wil
thing I've done. You'll make a fine wife,
flutter br
wi
en you fly too near the light, or when you play dodge with a butterfly net-away goes my part-you can't fly
many words about? You
at I d
able. Let me look at
l? Does the image flatter you?-Or is it a trou
looking-you are laughing at me.-Wh
just like Narcissus-a s
eriou
ous. You'd die of i
ha
ike I am n
ing she referred to the
-
l raindrop was shaken out of the trees; I slipped on the wet paths. Black bars striped the grey tree-trunks, where water had
and disheartening. The ground sobbed at every step. The brook was full, swirling along, hurrying, talking to itself, in
nting, and they immed
y, for it was Sunday afternoon. I satisfied the little ones; I s
dly hid her papers when I entered. George was sitting by the fire, reading. He looked up as I entered, and I loved him w
against the wall. The clock itself went slowly, with languid throbs. We gathered round the fire, and talked quietly, a
down his book-looked at
ap of gold which grew beneath the pulper. The smell of pulped turnips, keen and sweet, brings back to me the feeling of many w
Sunday!" I
didn't notice it. You know-Father often forgets-he
g the first layers of chop and turnip and meal-in ran Emily, with her hair in silken, twining confusion, her eyes glowing-to bid us go in to tea before the milking was begun. It was the
the father radiating comfort as the lamp shone yellow light. Sunday tea was imperfect without a visitor; with me, they al
e Cyril here at Sunday
able; he looked up with a half-appealing glance when George at last
mild, conciliatory tone,
ps of turnip scattered orange gleams over the earthen floor; the lofty roof, with its swallows' nests under the tiles, was deep in shadow, and the corners were full of darkness, hid
him my message. When he had finished the feed
empest was at our ho
his hands at the cow's udder, about to beg
tically engage
e side of the cow, as if he would begin to milk. But he did not. The cow looked round and stirred uneasily. He began to draw the milk, and then to milk mechanically. I watched the
really
odd
does your
is pl
r legs. He looked at her angrily, and went on milking. Then,
nued to milk. She did not yield much that night; she was very restive; he took the stool from beneath him and gave her a g
t he was going to talk. But just then the father came along with his bucke
Cyril-I thought you'd have milk
a day of rest-and milkin
said, joking in his ripe fashion. "Why G
t
ry. Julia, old lady, do
I heard his good-humoured "Stand over, old lass," from the othe
said George, looking savage
cted Lettie to h
'd made up her mind to it. It didn't
?" s
he was a prize-with a
!" s
ook how she turne
you?"
o squeeze her ti
ipped her before, a
t-running to comforts-she strikes
ralise, it'
ke a pros
I believe s
ueerly. He looked quite childi
, wh
him-hon
I left him and went to talk to his father. When the latter's four
ing over to poor Julia, stood scratching her back, and her poll, and her nose, looking into her big, startle
sadly, rubbing his face, and lookin
them. I never thought about it--till
t his ruefu