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I followed her with my bonnet in hand, for it was school time.
She looked about, then went up to the mantel, and taking out the candle-ends from the candelabra, looked in the gla.s.s, and said, "I am a fright this morning."
"Am I?" I asked over her shoulder, for I was nearly a head taller.
"No; you are too young to look jaded in the morning. Your eyes are as clear as a child's; and how blue they are."
"Mild and babyish-like, are they not? almost green with innocence. But Charles has devilish eyes, don't you think so?"
She turned with her mouth open in astonishment, and her hand full of candle-ends. "Ca.s.sandra Morgeson, are you mad?"
"Good-by," Alice.
I only saw Mr. Somers at prayers during the following fortnight. But in that short time he made many acquaintances. Helen told me that he had decided to study law with Judge Ryder, and that he had asked her how long I expected to stay in Rosville. Nothing eccentric had been discovered in his behavior; but she was convinced that he would astonish us before long. The first Wednesday after our party, I was absent from the elocutionary exercise; but the second came round, and I took my place as usual beside Helen.
"This will be Mr. Somers's first and last appearance on our stage,"
she whispered; "some whim prompts him to come to-day."
He delighted Dr. Price by translating from the Agamemnon of aeschylus.
"Re-enter Clytemnestra."
"_Men! Citizens! ye Elders of Argos present here._"
"Who was Agamemnon?" I whispered.
"He gave Ca.s.sandra her last ride."
"Did he upset her?"
"Study Greek and you will know," she replied, frowning at him as he stepped from the platform.
We went to walk in Silver Street after school, and he joined us.
"Do you read Greek?" he asked her.
"My father is a Greek Professor, and he made me study it when I was a little girl."
"The name of Ca.s.sandra inspired me to rub up my knowledge of the tragedies."
Helen and he had a Homeric talk, while I silently walked by them, thinking that Ca.s.sandra would have suited Veronica, and that no name suited me. From some reason I did not discover, Helen began to loiter, pretending that she wanted to have a look at the clouds. But when I looked back her head was bent to the ground. Mr. Somers offered to carry my books.
"Carry Helen's; she is smaller than I am."
"Confound Helen!"
"And the books, too, if you like. Helen," I called, "why do you loiter? It is time for dinner. We must go home."
"I am quite ready for my dinner," she replied. "Wont you come to our house this afternoon and take tea with me?"
"Oh, Miss Perkins, do invite me also," he begged. "I want to bring Tennyson to you."
"Is he related to Agamemnon?" I asked.
"I'll ask Mrs. Bancroft if I may invite you," said Helen, "if you are sure that you would like a stupid, family tea."
"I am positive that I should. Tennyson, though an eminent Grecian, is not related to the person you spoke of."
We parted at the foot of Silver Street, with the expectation of meeting before night. Helen sent me word not to fail, as she had sent for Mr. Somers, and that Mrs. Bancroft was already preparing tea.
Alice drove down there with me, to call on Mrs. Bancroft. The two ladies compared children, and by the time Alice was ready to go, Mr.
Somers arrived. She staid a few moments more to chat with him, and when she went at last, told me Charles would come for me on his way from the mills.
My eyes wandered in the direction of Mr. Somers. His said: "No; go home with _me_."
"Very well, Alice, whatever is convenient," I answered quietly.
Mrs. Bancroft was a motherly woman, and Mr. Bancroft was a fatherly man. Five children sat round the tea-table, distinguished by the Bancroft nose. Helen and I were seated each side of Mr. Somers. The table reminded me of our table at Surrey, it was so covered with vast viands; but the dishes were alike, and handsome. I wondered whether mother had bought the new china in Boston, and, b.u.t.tering my second hot biscuit, I thought of Veronica; then, of the sea. How did it look?
Hark! Its voice was in my ear! Could I climb the housetop? Might I not see the mist which hung over our low-lying sea by Surrey?
"Will you take quince or apple jelly, Miss Morgeson?" asked Mrs.
Bancroft.
"Apple, if you please."
"Do you write that sister of yours often?" asked Mr. Somers, as he pa.s.sed me the apple jelly.
"I never write her."
"Will you tell me something of Surrey?"
"Mr. Somers, shall I give you a cup-custard?"
"No, thank you, mam."
"Surrey is lonely, evangelical, primitive."
"Belem is dreary too; most of it goes to Boston, or to India."
"Does it smell of sandal wood? And has everybody tea-caddies? _Vide_ Indian stories."
"We have a crate of queer things from Calcutta."
"Are you going to study law with Judge Ryder?" Mr. Bancroft inquired.
"I think so."
Then Helen pushed back her chair; and Mrs. Bancroft stood in her place long enough for us to reach the parlor door.
"And I must go to the office," Mr. Bancroft said, so we had the parlor to ourselves; but Mr. Somers did not read from Tennyson--for he had forgotten to bring the book.