Queechy Volume Ii Part 26

"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."

"My dear little Fleda," exclaimed Constance, jumping up, and capering round the table to kiss her, "you are too delicious for anything; and in future I will be blind to your colours, which is a piece of self-denial I am sure n.o.body else will practise."

"Mamma," said Edith, "what _are_ you all talking about? Can't Constance sit down and let Fleda eat her breakfast?"

"Sit down, Constance, and eat your breakfast."

"I will do it, Mamma, out of consideration for the bacon.

Nothing else would move me."

"Are you going to Mrs. Decatur's to-night, Fleda?"

"No, Edith, I believe not."

"I'm very glad; then there'll be somebody at home. But why don't you?"

"I think, on the whole, I had rather not."

"Mamma," said Constance, "you have done very wrong in permitting such a thing. I know just how it will be. Mr. Thorn and Mr. Stackpole will make indefinite voyages of discovery round Mrs. Decatur's rooms, and then, having a glimmering perception that the light of Miss Ringgan's eyes is in another direction, they will sheer off; and you will presently see them come sailing blandly in, one after the other, and cast anchor for the evening; when, to your extreme delight, Mr.

Stackpole and Miss Ringgan will immediately commence fighting.

I shall stay at home to see!" exclaimed Constance, with little bounds of delight up and down upon her chair, which this time afforded her the additional elasticity of springs; "I will not go. I am persuaded how it will be, and I would not miss it for anything."

"Dear Constance," said Fleda, unable to help laughing through all her vexation, "please do not talk so. You know very well Mr. Stackpole only comes to see your mother."

"He was here last night," said Constance, in an extreme state of delight, "with all the rest of your admirers, ranged in the hall, with their hats in a pile at the foot of the staircase, as a token of their determination not to go till you came home; and, as they could not be induced to come up to the drawing-room, Mr. Evelyn was obliged to go down, and with some difficulty persuaded them to disperse."

Fleda was by this time in a state of indecision betwixt crying and laughing, a.s.siduously attentive to her breakfast.

"Mr. Carleton asked me if you would go to ride with him again the other day, Fleda," said Mrs. Evelyn, with her face of delighted mischief, "and I excused you, for I thought you would thank me for it."

"Mamma," said Constance, "the mention of that name rouses all the bitter feelings I am capable of. My dear Fleda, we have been friends; but if I see you abstracting my English rose ?"

"Look at those roses behind you!" said Fleda.

The young lady turned and sprang at the word, followed by both her sisters; and for some moments nothing but a hubbub of exclamations filled the air.

"Joe, you are enchanting! But did you ever see such flowers?

Oh, those rose-buds!"

"And these camellias," said Edith; "look, Florence, how they are cut ? with such splendid long stems!"

"And the roses, too ? all of them ? see, Mamma, just cut from the bushes, with the buds all left on, and immensely long stems! Mamma, these must have cost an immensity!"

"That is what I call a bouquet," said Fleda, fain to leave the table, too, and draw near the tempting show in Florence's hand.

"This is the handsomest you have had all winter, Florence,"

said Edith.