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Croix barracks," said Eeny uneasily. "Come away Kate. I am afraid of the soldiers they may see us." She turned round and uttered a scream. Two brawny redcoats were striding across the wet field to where they stood. They reeled as they walked, and set up a sort of Indian war-whoop on finding they were discovered. "Don't you run away, my little dears," said one, "we're coming as fast as we can."
Half buried in a great carved and gilded chair, lay the only occupant of the room a youthful angel of fifteen, fragile in form, fair and delicate of face, with light hair and blue eyes. A novel lying open in her lap showed what her occupation had been. "I thought you were practising your music, Eeny," said Grace. "So I was, until I got tired. But what's that you've got? A letter?"
Richards. Eeny practised conscientiously three hours. It was then nearly five o'clock, and the afternoon sun was dropping low in the level sky. She rose up, closed the piano, and went in search of her sister. Upstairs and down stairs and in my lady's chamber, but my lady was nowhere to be found. Grace didn't know where she was. Eunice, the rosy English maid, didn't know.
What could Doctor Frank mean? The solution of the riddle that had puzzled Eeny came to her. Had they been lovers at some past time? was Doctor Frank a villain after all? The moon sailed up in the zenith, the blue sky was all sown with stars, and the loud ringing of the dinner-bell reached her even where she sat.
In a week or two, you will have room in your heart for no one but her." "You know better than that," said Eeny; "perhaps she will be like Rose, and I shall not love her at all." Grace smiled. "Do you mean to say you do not love Rose, then?" "Love Rose?" repeated Eeny, very much amazed at the question; "love Rose, indeed! I should like to see any one who could love Rose.
Danton's own chair; into Kate's fairy boudoir, all fluted satin and brocatelle; into her bed-chamber, where everything was white, and azure, and spotless as herself; into Eeny's room, pretty and tasteful, but not so superb; into Rose's, very disordered, and littered, and characteristic; into papa's, big, carpetless, fireless, dreadfully grim and unlike papa himself; into Grace's, the perfection of order and taste, and then Eeny stopped, out of breath.
Grace, people talk about Rose being pretty; but she is no more to Kate than than just nothing at all." "Did you come in merely to say that? If so, Miss Eveleen, I must request you to depart, as I am going to say my prayers." "Directly," said Eeny, nestling more comfortably on her stool. "Did you ever hear any one play and sing as she does?" "She plays and sings remarkably well."
Orne jabbed his finger back and forth from his breast to the direction of Britt, with the motions of the "eeny, meeny" game. "I was mistook. You was mistook. I figgered on your money. So did you. I figgered you'd go strong in politics like you had in finance. So did you." Mr. Orne put his hand up sidewise and sliced the air. "Nothing doing in politics, Mr. Britt!
If I close my eyes just a little eeny, I can see birds and fountains and a beautiful stage, and me with my hair all gold, and a blue satin train that kicks back when I walk, and all the music in the world winding around me like like everything like smoke. But it isn't truly there, silly, except inside of me." "Haw."
She turned away, and looked again at the paling glory of the sunset, not seeing it this time, but thinking of Agnes Darling's unaccountable agitation at sight of Grace's brother. "Perhaps he has been a lover of hers," thought romantic Eeny, "and false! She is very pretty, or would be, if she wasn't as pale as a corpse. And yet I don't think Doctor Frank would be false to any one either.
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