Devil's Wind Read Free

earnest attention. “About two years, I think, Aunt Harriet,” she said.
    Mrs. Middleton looked disapprovingly at her niece. The light caught her prominent brown eyes and gave them a shiny look. They reminded Helen of small bull’s-eyes.
    â€œYou are as pale as a piece of plaster too, and less like Edward than ever. And where on earth you and Adela got that untidy frizzly hair from, I am sure I don’t know. None of our family ever had such a thing. My girls have both got hair like mine, I am thankful to say, nice, smooth hair that can be kept tidy, and plenty of it. But a great deal can be done with pomatum. Wilkin’s is the best. I will send you a pot to try. I gave one to Adela when she came down for Hetty’s wedding. Has she used it?”
    Helen looked interested, and Mrs. Lauriston observed feebly:
    â€œAdela wears her hair in ringlets.”
    â€œAnd very untidy she looked. That was why I gave her the pomatum, Lucy; but, of course, if you encourage her—By the way, where is Adela?”
    â€œAdela has—has gone out. She had an engagement, Harriet—she was so sorry—”
    â€œAn engagement—without you?”
    â€œMy health,” faltered Mrs. Lauriston. “I am unable to take Adela out myself, and Mrs. Willoughby has been most kind.”
    Mrs. Middleton snorted.
    â€œI always took my girls about myself. I felt it a duty. But if you are really unable to go out with Adela, I must say, Lucy, that I should have thought Hetty, her own cousin, a more suitable chaperon than Mrs. Willoughby.”
    â€œHetty is so young,” began Mrs. Lauriston, flushing.
    â€œHetty is a married woman, and exceptionally discreet for her years. She would at least have prevented Adela from getting herself talked about,” said Mrs. Middleton with emphasis.
    â€œHarriet!”
    Mrs. Middleton unfastened her shawl and threw it back. She had come on purpose to talk to Lucy about her daughter, but she had meant to lead up to the point more gradually.
    â€œYour room is stifling,” she observed. “Helen, won’t that window open?”
    â€œI think it will,” said Helen, but she did not get up.
    â€œHarriet, what do you mean?” cried Mrs. Lauriston.
    â€œIt is an extremely hot afternoon, and you have everything closed,” began Mrs. Middleton, but for once her sister interrupted her.
    â€œHarriet, what did you mean about Adela?”
    â€œMy dear Lucy, how you agitate yourself. What did I say?”
    â€œYou said—you implied that Adela was being talked about.”
    â€œWell, Lucy, and what can you expect when you let her go about with a flighty young woman like Mrs. Willoughby, and pick up with illegitimate, half-caste young men?”
    â€œHarriet!”
    â€œMy dear Lucy, what is the use of taking that tone? Every one is talking about it. I wish I had come to town two months ago.”
    Mrs. Lauriston caught at her dignity with tremulous hands.
    â€œMr. Manners is an excellent young man, his father was a cousin of Mr. Lauriston’s,” she said. “He is devoted to Adela, and when he has established his claim to the Manners estates—”
    â€œReally, Lucy! is it possible that you have encouraged him?”
    â€œAnd why not, Harriet?”
    â€œLucy, are you crazy? Why not? Why not?”
    â€œHe is Colonel Manners’s son.”
    â€œAnd his mother?”
    â€œI don’t understand you, Harriet. His mother was a native lady of rank, or so I understood.”
    â€œAnd the proofs of the marriage?”
    â€œMr. Manners certainly has ample proof.”
    â€œMr. Manners certainly has no proof at all,” said Mrs. Middleton, and saw her sister whiten.
    â€œOh, Harriet!”
    â€œHe has no proof at all,” she repeated. “I felt it my duty to let you know at once. He consulted Mortimer James, and Mortimer told Hetty that there was no proof at all—absolutely none—that