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Now, Cythie, come with me; we'll let this volcano burst and spend itself, and after that we'll see what had better be done. She took Cytherea into her workroom, opened a drawer, and drew forth a roll of linen. 'This is some embroidery I began one day, and now I should like it finished. She then preceded the maiden upstairs to Cytherea's own room.
The direct blaze of the afternoon sun, partly refracted through the crimson curtains of the window, and heightened by reflections from the crimson-flock paper which covered the walls, and a carpet on the floor of the same tint, shone with a burning glow round the form of a lady standing close to Cytherea's front with the door in her hand.
The speech was an unfortunate one, and was the very 'fuel to maintain its fires' that the other's petulance desired. 'You did, she said hotly. 'I told you I couldn't promise to be acquainted with every detail of routine just at first. 'Will you contradict me in this way! You are telling untruths, I say. Cytherea's lip quivered. 'I would answer the remark if if 'If what?
Contrary to the opinion of the doctors, the wound had healed after the first surgical operation, and his leg was gradually acquiring strength, though he could only as yet get about on crutches, or ride, or be dragged in a chair. Miss Aldclyffe had arranged that Cytherea should be married from Knapwater House, and not from her brother's lodgings at Budmouth, which was Cytherea's first idea.
At Cytherea's entry she turned and looked inquiry. 'I must tell you now, began Cytherea, in a tremulous voice. 'Well, what? Miss Aldclyffe said. 'I am not going to stay with you. I must go away a very long way. I am very sorry, but indeed I can't remain! 'Pooh what shall we hear next? Miss Aldclyffe surveyed Cytherea's face with leisurely criticism.
V. To thy unspotted shrine I bow: Attend thy modest suppliant's vow, That breathes no wild desires; But, taught by thy unerring rules, To shun the fruitless wish of fools, To nobler views aspires. VI. Not Fortune's gem, Ambition's plume, Nor Cytherea's fading bloom, Be objects of my prayer: Let av'rice, vanity, and pride, Those envy'd glitt'ring toys divide, The dull rewards of care.
'That would decidedly dispose of the second difficulty. But his motive would be as mysterious as ever. Cytherea's pictured dreads would not allow her mind to follow their conversation. 'She's burnt, she said. 'O yes; I fear I fear she is! 'I don't think we can seriously believe that now, after what has happened, said the rector.
Underneath his name was pencilled, in Miss Aldclyffe's handwriting, 'Mr. Manston. Manston had arrived on the estate, in the capacity of steward, three or four days previously, and occupied the old manor-house, which had been altered and repaired for his reception. 'Call on Mr. Manston, said the lady impressively, looking at the name written under Cytherea's portion of the list.
Few would have supposed that the calm lady sitting aristocratically at the toilet table, seeming scarcely conscious of Cytherea's presence in the room, even when greeting her, was the passionate creature who had asked for kisses a few hours before. It is both painful and satisfactory to think how often these antitheses are to be observed in the individual most open to our observation ourselves.
"daffodils, That come before the swallow dares and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses That die unmarried," &c., &c.