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"It is for your father," she said. "He would like me to look nice I am sure he'd like us all to look nice to-night. Go upstairs, Effie, dear, and put on your pretty blue muslin. And you, Agnes, I wish you to wear your Sunday frock." Agnes, who had bounded into the room at this moment, stopped short in astonishment. "Are we all going to a party?" she asked, excitement in her tone.
"I suppose," the lawyer had said, looking at the two, "you, Effie, will have to get Miss Forsyth some clothes tomorrow " "Clothes," Robin cried, astonished. "I brought some." "Well, you probably ought to have some other kind. You see, my dear, you are a Forsyth of Gray Manor now." He turned to his sister. "Effie, can you get all she needs everything, before tomorrow at three o'clock?"
Jerushy! they'd pretty nigh knock your eye out." The dressmaker sniffed disdain. "Cap'n Whittaker," she retorted, "if you want this child to look like an Indian squaw or a barber's pole you'll have to get somebody else to do it. I'm used to dressing Christians, not yeller and black heathen women. Red strung along a skirt like that! I never did!" "There, there, Effie!
"Why did you send away my little girls?" said Hugh lazily, "I don't mean bad little girls like those," he looked at the shamelessly cheerful Florence and Effie, who were gathering ferns for the tables, "but my good little girls." "Silly little things," said Kate, "they get on my nerves frightfully. I wanted to keep my faculties clear for my work."
The Harveys were rich and proud; they spent the greater part of their time in London, and had never before condescended to consult the village doctor. What was the matter now? Effie rushed from her room and knocked furiously at her father's door. "Father, do you hear the night-bell? Are you getting up?" she called. "Yes, child, yes," answered the doctor.
And, then, had not her prayer been heard? not just as she had hoped, but in a better way. The thought filled her with a strange glad wonder. Could it be possible? Her eye fell on the open page, and her hand trembled as she read: "Ask, and ye shall receive, that your joy may be full." "Effie," she said, softly, "I thank you very much. Lay it in my little box; and good-night."
Darrow asked, picking up a book from the table. "Oh, thank you!" He held it out to her and she took it and moved to the door. "Wait a minute, please, Miss Viner," Anna said; and as the girl turned back, she went on with her quiet smile: "Effie told us you'd gone to your room with a headache. You mustn't sit up over tomorrow's lessons if you don't feel well." Sophy's blush deepened.
He lifted the little child, kissed her, and then, still carrying her, he held his other hand out to his wife and turned towards the door. "We can talk it over more comfortably at home," said he. "I am not a very good man, Effie, but I think that I am a better one than you have given me credit for being." Holmes and I followed them down the lane, and my friend plucked at my sleeve as we came out.
Effie was sitting in a deep chair by the window, a flowered quilt bunched about her shoulders, her feet in gray knitted bedroom slippers. She looked every minute of her age, and she knew it, and didn't care. The hand that she held out to Gabe was a limp, white, fleshless thing that seemed to bear no relation to the plump, firm member that Gabe had pressed on so many previous occasions.
Ventnor's seeming rudeness, if she welcomes us with graceful scenes like this. A child-wife's whims are often prettier than the world's formal ways; so do not chide her, Basil, when she wakes." I was a proud man then, touched easily by trivial things. Agnes's pitying manner stung me, and the tone in which I wakened Effie was far harsher than it should have been.
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