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I despised my work. Oh, Esther! you cannot contradict me; you know how bitterly I spoke of the little Thornes; how I refused to take them into my heart; how scornfully I spoke of my ornamental brickmaking." I could not gainsay her words on that point; I knew her to be wrong. "I wanted to choose my work; that was the fatal error.
"Here comes our Dame Bustle," Uncle Geoffrey would say. It was his favorite name for me, and mother would look up and greet me with the same loving smile that was never wanting on her dear face. On the stairs I generally came upon Carrie, coming down from her little room. "How are the little Thornes?" I would ask her, cheerfully; but by-and-by I left off asking her about them.
After a dreary January in Paris, at last when no excuse could be persuaded to offer itself for further delay, he crossed the channel and passed a week with his old friend, Milnes Gaskell, at Thornes, in Yorkshire, while the westerly gales raved a warning against going home. Yorkshire in January is not an island in the South Seas.
Lookaloft won't squeeze her fine clothes on a bench and talk familiarly about cream and ducklings to good Mrs. Greenacre. And yet Mrs. Lookaloft is no fit companion and never has been the associate of the Thornes and the Grantlys. And if Mrs.
That is, when I choose to be an old fool and talk of such matters in a sense different from that in which they are spoken of by the world at large, I may say that the Thornes are as good, or perhaps better, than the Greshams, but I should be sorry to say so seriously to any one. The Greshams now stand much higher in the county than the Thornes do." "But they are of the same class."
"Lord Buckish," said she to herself, rejoicingly, "is now with the ambassador at Paris" Lord Buckish was her nephew "and with him Frank will meet women that are really beautiful women of fashion. When with Lord Buckish he will soon forget Mary Thorne." But not on this account did she change her resolve to follow up to the furthest point her hostility to the Thornes.
She finished with a sort of weary tone in her tired voice, and after that I let the little Thornes alone. What happy evenings those were! Not that we were idle, though "the saints forbid," as old Biddy used to say.
But both she and Mrs. Adams were a little uneasy two or three days later, when, returning from a motor trip, they saw Mrs. Burgoyne standing at the Thornes' gate, in laughing conversation with pretty little Katherine and her angular, tall mother. "And there is nothing in that story at all," said Mrs. Burgoyne later, to Mrs. Carew.
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