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Saxby complimented me on my good colour. Aunt Martha looked her disapproval. If I were really ill Aunt would spend her last cent in my behalf, but she would be just as well pleased to see me properly pale and subdued at all times, and not looking as if I were too well contented in this vale of tears. July Seventeenth. I have "talked" a good deal with Mr. Shelmardine these past four days.
Connie taught it to me last year, so that we might hold communication across the schoolroom. I gave one frantic glance at Aunt Martha's rigid back, and then watched him while he deftly spelled: "I am Francis Shelmardine. Are you not Miss Forrester, my sister's friend?" Francis Shelmardine! Now I knew whom he resembled.
"But it is so lonely there and one can't be interested in sermons and memoirs all the time." Mr. Shelmardine laughed. "Mr. and Mrs. Allardyce are on the other side of the boat. Will you come and meet them?" How nice of him to bring them! I knew I should like Mrs. Allardyce, just because Aunt Martha didn't. We had a delightful stroll. I never thought of the time until Mr.
When we went to the shore this morning I had to wait in spasms of remorse and anxiety until Aunt got tired of reading and set off along the shore with Mrs. Saxby. Then I reached for my glass. Mr. Shelmardine and I had quite a conversation. Under the circumstances there could be no useless circumlocution in our exchange of ideas.
But Aunt Martha was not awake and I have been to the shore three afternoons since then. I was there today, and I'm going tomorrow for a boat sail with Mr. Shelmardine and the Allardyces. But I am afraid the former will do something rash soon. This afternoon he said: "I don't think I can stand this much longer." "Stand what?" I asked. "You know very well," he answered recklessly.
On Monday afternoon I slipped away to the shore while Aunt Martha and Mrs. Saxby were taking their regular nap and I was supposed to be reading sermons in my room. Mr. Shelmardine was leaning against the old boat, but he came swiftly across the sand to meet me. "This is very kind of you," he said. "I ought not to have come," I said repentantly.
Aunt Martha is very good and kind to me, but she will never stop trying to bring me up. The process will be going on when I am fifty. And she hates men! I don't know what she would do if she saw me now." Mr. Shelmardine frowned and switched the unoffending daisies viciously with his cane. "Then there is no hope of my seeing you openly and above-board?" "Not at present," I said faintly.
Shelmardine said it was four o'clock. "Oh, is it so late as that?" I cried. "I must go at once." "I'm sorry we have kept you so long," remarked Mr. Shelmardine in a tone of concern. "If she should be awake, what will the consequences be?" "Too terrible to think of," I answered seriously. "I'm sorry, Mr. Shelmardine, but you mustn't come any further." "We will be here tomorrow afternoon," he said.
Your aunt says that we are to go home on the afternoon train tomorrow. She is terribly upset." I just curled up on the bed and cried, while Mrs. Saxby packed my trunk. I will have no chance to explain matters to Mr. Shelmardine. And I will never see him again, for Aunt is quite capable of whisking me off to Africa. He will just think me a feather-brained flirt. Oh, I am so unhappy!
Allardyce if she knew who the boarders at Fir Cottage were and she told me. I had heard Connie speak of you, and I determined to make your acquaintance." When we reached the lane I held out my hand for the hymnal. "You mustn't come any further, Mr. Shelmardine," I said hurriedly. "Aunt Aunt might see you." He took my hand and held it, looking at me seriously.
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