Daisy Burns Volume I Part 35

"You don't seem very merry," said Cornelius, stooping to look into my face.

"The silly thing is afraid of the looking-gla.s.s," pitilessly observed Kate.

"Have you really not yet looked at yourself?" asked Cornelius, in a tone of surprise.

"No, Cornelius," I replied, in a low voice, "I had promised, you know."

"So you had, and you kept your word like a good little girl. Well, I release you--you may look now."

I felt in no hurry to avail myself of the permission.

"Why don't you look?" he asked, very coolly.

"I would rather not," I faltered.

"But you must look at yourself some day; better have it over," was his philosophic advice.

"Indeed I would much rather not."

"Pshaw!" he said, impatiently, "I thought you had more sense."

"So did I," observed Kate.

I thought it was very easy for them, who were both handsome, to talk of sense to a poor plain girl.

"Is it possible," composedly continued Cornelius, "that you mind it? Now, if you find your nose a little damaged, for instance, will it affect you?"

"Indeed. Cornelius, I should not like it," was my dismayed reply.

"Would you not?"

"No, indeed; is there anything the matter with my nose?"

"Just give one good, courageous look, and see."

He took my hand, made me rise, and led me to the gla.s.s. In vain I turned away--he compelled me to look, and I saw my face--the same as ever; not handsomer, certainly, but not in the least disfigured. I turned to Cornelius, flushed and breathless with pleasure: he seemed to be enjoying my surprise.

"Ah! how uselessly we have frightened you!" he said, smiling, "but your face looked bad at first, and that wise doctor said it would remain thus.

Kate and I have watched the change with great interest, but seeing how well you bore it, we resolved not to speak until you were once more metamorphosed into your former self. Confess the pleasure was worth the fright."

I glanced at the mirror, then at Cornelius, who stood with me on the hearth-rug, and with an odd, fluttering feeling, I observed--

"I don't think I am disfigured, Cornelius."

"Not a bit," he replied, gaily: "oh! you will grow up into a beauty yet."

He was holding my head in both his hands, and looking down at me very kindly. I earnestly gazed in his face, and said--

"Did I look very bad on that evening when you brought me down, Cornelius?

Was I quite a fright?"

"Almost," he replied, frankly. "Well, what is it?" he added, as he saw my eyes filling with tears: "you do not mind that now, do you, child?"

"No. Cornelius, but I remember you kissed me."

He smiled, without answering, and went back to Miriam. I quietly resumed by him the place to which he had summoned me, and which I had so reluctantly taken. He paid me no attention, and pertinaciously looked at his betrothed; yet when my hand silently sought his, its pressure returned told me that he was not unconscious of my presence. I felt too happy to be jealous, and for once sitting thus by Cornelius, unnoticed, but with his hand in mine, I could be satisfied with that humble degree of affection which a plain, homely child may receive in the presence of a beautiful and beloved woman. Kate, pleased to see me recovered and happy, was smiling at me from her low chair, when she suddenly frowned and started, as a low, timid knock was heard at the street-door.

"That's Trim!" she exclaimed astonished, for, like Mr. Smalley, he had not come near us since the engagement of Cornelius and Miriam; "I know him by his slinking knock, which always seems to say, 'Don't mind me-- n.o.body minds me, you know.'"

Miriam smiled scornfully; the parlour door opened, and Mr. Trim's head appeared nodding benevolently at us all. He entered with his usual slouch, shuffled his way to Kate, and holding her hand in both his, kindly hoped, "she was quite well."

"Quite," was her prompt reply. Mr. Trim was so happy to hear it that he forgot to release her hand, until that of Cornelius, laid on his shoulder, made him turn round. Mr. Trim's eyes seemed to overflow with emotion. "G.o.d bless you, my dear fellow, G.o.d bless you!" he said, shaking both the hands of his friend up and down several times with great fervour, "it does me good to see you; I wanted Smalley to come, and thought it would do him good too, but he declined. He returns your Byron with thanks and his love, and hopes Byron was a Christian, but he would not come. Ah! my dear fellow, clergymen are men."

"What else did you think they were?" shortly asked Kate--"birds?"

Mr. Trim's fancy was much tickled at the idea. He shut his little eyes and laughed immoderately. When he recovered, he went up to Miriam, who sat indifferent and calm, like one taking no share in what was pa.s.sing.

Mr. Trim hoped she was quite well; she replied quite, with the most scornful civility. He hoped she had been quite well since he last saw her. She had been quite well. He hoped she would continue to be quite well. She hoped so too, and took up a book. Undeterred by this, Mr. Trim drew a chair near the angle of the sofa in which she sat, and spite of her astonished look, there he remained.

Cornelius had resumed his place between Miriam and me, and I had the honour of next attracting Mr. Trim's attention.

"I am quite well now," I replied, in answer to his inquiries, "but I have had the small-pox."

"Had the small-pox, eh? Let me see; I am half blind, you know."

He raised the lamp, surveyed me through his half-shut eyes, then said admiringly--

"A very fair escape. Don't you think the little thing's complexion is improved, Ma'am?"

He addressed Miriam, who acquiesced by a silent bend of her queen-like head.

"Altogether," continued Mr. Trim, "she looks better. Now do you know, Ma'am, that at sixteen Daisy will be quite a pretty girl."

Miriam smiled ironically. Cornelius looked at me, and complacently observed--

"Three years may make a great difference."

"Is Daisy thirteen?" suddenly asked Miriam.

"Not yet; her birthday is in May."

"You told Dr. Mixton she was ten."

"Twelve, Miriam; she was ten when I brought her home."

She did not reply.

"How goes on the Happy Time?" asked Mr. Trim, bending forward with his hands on his knees.

"It is finished, and I am engaged on another picture."