The daisy chain, or Aspiration : a family chronicle. Pt. 2 (290,00 руб.)

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CONTENTS Chapter XXIII ...........................................................................427 XXIV ...........................................................................449 XXV ...........................................................................477 XXVI ...........................................................................493 XXVII ...........................................................................511 XVIII ...........................................................................319 XIX ...........................................................................343 XX ...........................................................................361 XXI ...........................................................................385 XXII ...........................................................................403 XII. ...........................................................................207 XIII ...........................................................................233 XIV ...........................................................................253 XV ...........................................................................265 XVI ...........................................................................277 XVII ...........................................................................293 VIII ...........................................................................119 IX ...........................................................................137 X ...........................................................................165 XI ...........................................................................187 III ...........................................................................29 IV ...........................................................................43 V ...........................................................................65 VI ...........................................................................81 VII ...........................................................................95 I ...........................................................................1 II ...........................................................................21 Page

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CHAPTER I “Now have I then eke this condicion, That above all the flouris in the mede; Then love I most these flouris white and rede, Soche that men callin daisies in our town. To them have I so great affection, As I said erst, when comin is the Mate, That in my bed there dawith me no dale That I am up and walking in the mede, To see this floure agenst the sunne sprede.” CHAUCER. “THAT is better!” said Margaret, contemplating a butterfly of the penwiper class, whose constitution her dextrous needle had been rendering less ricketty than Blanche had left it. Margaret still lay on the sofa, and her complexion had assumed the dead white of habitual ill-health. There was more languor of manner, and her countenance, when at rest, and not under the eye of her father, had a sadness of expression, as if any hopes, that she might once have entertained, were fading away. The years of Alan Enescliffe’s absence that had elapsed had rather taken from her powers than added to them. Nevertheless, the habit of cheerfulness and sympathy had not deserted her, and it was with a somewhat amused glance that

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2 CHAPTER I she turned towards Ethel, as she heard her answer by a sigh. These years had dealt more kindly with Etheldred’s outward appearance. They had rounded her angles, softened her features, and tinged her cheeks with a touch of red, that took off from the surrounding sallowness. She held herself better, had learnt to keep her hair in order, and the more womanly dress, plain though it was, improved her figure more than could have been hoped in the days of her lank, gawky girlhood. No one could call her pretty, but her countenance had something more than ever pleasing in the animated and thoughtful expression on those marked features. She was sitting near the window, with a book, a dictionary and pencil, as she replied to Margaret, with the sigh that made her sister smile. “Poor Ethel! I condole with you.” “And I wonder at you!” said Ethel, “especially as Flora and Mrs. Hoxton say it is all for your sake;” then, nettled by Margaret’s laugh, “ ‘such a nice occupation for her, poor thing’ as if you were Mrs. Hoxton, and had no resource but fancywork.” “You know I am base enough to be so amused,” said Margaret; “but, seriously, Ethel dear, I cannot bear to see you so much hurt by it. I did not know you were really grieved.” “Grieved! I am ashamed — sickened!” cried Ethel, vehemently. “Poor Cocksmoor! As soon as anything is done there. Flora must needs go about implying that we have set some grand work in hand, and want only means — “

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THE DAISY CHAIN 3 “Stop, Ethel; Flora does not boast.” “No, she does not boast. I wish she did! That would be straightforward and simple; but she has too good taste for that — so she does worse — she tells a little, and makes that go a long way, as if she were keeping back a great deal! You don’t know how furious it makes me!” “Ethel!” “So,” said Ethel, disregarding, “she stirs up all Stoneborough to hear what the Miss Mays are doing at Cocksmoor. So the Ladies’ Committee must needs have their finger in! Much they cared for the place when it was wild and neglected! But they go to inspect Cherry and her school — Mrs. Ledwich and all — and, back they come, shocked — no system, no order, the mistress untrained, the school too small, with no apparatus! They all run about in despair, as if we had ever asked them to help us. And so Mrs. Hoxton, who cares for poor children no more than for puppy-dogs, but who can’t live without useless work, and has filled her house as full of it as it can hold, devises a bazaar — a field for her trumpery, and a shew-off for all the young ladies; and Flora treats it like an inspiration! Off they trot, to the old Assembly Rooms. I trusted that the smallness of them would have knocked it on the head; but, still worse, Flora’s talking of it makes Mr. Rivers think it our pet scheme; so, what does he do but offer his park, and so we are to have a regular fancy fair, and Cocksmoor school will be founded in vanity and frivolity! But, I believe you like it!” “I am not sure of my own feeling,” said Margaret. “It has been settled without our interposition, and I have never been able to talk it over calmly with you. Papa does not seem to disapprove.”

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