Fortune's Mistress by Comstock Mary Chase

Author:Comstock, Mary Chase [Comstock, Mary Chase]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Published: 2013-05-31T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Marianne sat before a blazing fire, Jane and Becky nestled on either side of her, and the kittens, sleeping for once, in a basket at her feet. The fair weather had finally forsaken them, but though the wind whistled round the corners of Rosewood Cottage, all was snug within.

“... x, y, and zed,” Jane pronounced slowly from the little book before her.

“Very good,” Marianne smiled. “You and Becky must practice during the week to come, and then I will show you how all of these letters are put together into words and stories.”

Jane sighed and looked up at her soulfully. “Must we be waitin’ till next time for a story?”

Marianne smiled. “I have sent for some story books,” she explained, “but they have not arrived yet. Perhaps, however, I can remember one from my nursery days.”

“A story right out of your own head?” Jane asked, her eyes wide.

“Yes, right out of my own head— we will hope it does not suffer in the translation.”

How quickly these two had taken to her, trusted her— rather like the kittens, she realized, Dr. Venables had begun by bringing them by with him when he had finished his daily calls, then, when they had grown comfortable enough, encouraged them to find their way to the cottage on their own. Becky was still very quiet, speaking in a whispered undertone, if at all. Jane, however, made up for her little sister’s silence, chatting companionably like an old friend. At odd moments, Marianne could still discern the remnants of the child’s initial watchfulness, but she gave it little thought. Perhaps in this life, such caution was a good thing, for who knew when it might provide a necessary lens to view a wicked world?

Before beginning her story, Marianne poured out another cup of chocolate for the children, just as Annie entered. “You’ve more callers, ma’am,” the maid told her with a frown, “though these last may not be so welcome as the first.”

Raising her eyebrows, Marianne glanced past Annie to see two grimy faces peeking past her skirts. Charlie and George, was it? She had glimpsed them once, but had heard innumerable tales of their naughtiness. She hoped their visit did not portend a parade of hedgehogs through her parlor, or a polecat in the barn. From her side came Jane’s whispered pronouncement, “Wicked boys! Please, Missus, dinna let them spoil our story.”

Marianne sympathized, remembering the antipathy of little girls for those of the opposite gender, but, watching the boys gaze longingly at the well-laden tea tray, she found she had not the heart to turn them away.

“Good afternoon,” she said. “You may come in, but we are just about to have a story, so you must sit very still and listen quietly, if you are to stay.”

The boys exchanged a glance and seated themselves on the floor near the kittens. George advanced a tentative hand to pet one of them, but Jane immediately hissed, “Dinna touch ‘em,” and he withdrew it. Marianne bit her tongue to keep from smiling.

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