Short Stories 1895-1926 Read Free

my legs out in useless errands in his service. And a word of praise sufficed her for many hours of difficulty. But by and by, when evening after evening was spent by my father away from home, she began to be uneasy and depressed; and though she made no complaint, her anxious face, the incessant interrogation of her eyes vexed and irritated him beyond measure.
    â€˜â€œWhere does my father go after dinner?” I asked Martha one night, when my mother was in my bedroom, folding my clothes.
    â€˜â€œHow dare you ask such a question?” said my mother, “and how dare you talk to the child about your master’s comings and goings?”
    â€˜â€œBut where does he?” I repeated to Martha, when my mother was gone out of the room.
    â€˜â€œSsh now, Master Nicholas,” she answered, “didn’t you hear what your mamma said? She’s vexed, poor lady, at master’s never spending a whole day at home, but nothing but them cards, cards, cards, every night at Mr Grey’s. Why, often it’s twelve and one in the morning when I’ve heard his foot on the gravel beneath the window. But there, I’ll be bound, she doesn’t mean to speak unkindly. It’s a terrible scourge is jealousy, Master Nicholas; and not generous or manly to give it cause. Mrs Ryder was kept a widow all along of jealousy, and but a week before her wedding with her second.”
    â€˜â€œBut why is mother jealous of my father playing cards?”
    â€˜Martha slipped my nightgown over my head. “Ssh, Master Nicholas, little boys mustn’t ask so many questions. And I hope when you are grown up to be a man, my dear, you will be a comfort to your mother. She needs it, poor soul, and sakes alive, just now of all times!” I looked inquisitively into Martha’s face; but she screened my eyes with her hand; and instead of further questions, I said my prayers to her.
    â€˜A few days after this I was sitting with my mother in her parlour, holding her grey worsted for her to wind, when my father entered the room and bade me put on my hat and muffler. “He is going to pay a call with me,” he explained curtly. As I went out of the room, I heard my mother’s question, “To your friends at the Grange, I suppose?”
    â€˜â€œYou may suppose whatever you please,” he answered. I heard my mother rise to leave the room, but he called her back and the door was shut …
    â€˜The room in which the card-players sat was very low-ceiled. A piano stood near the window, a rosewood table with a fine dark crimson workbasket upon it by the fireside, and some little distance away, a green card-table with candles burning. Mr Grey was a slim, elegant man, with a high, narrow forehead and long fingers. Major Aubrey was a short, red-faced, rather taciturn man. There was also a younger man with fair hair. They seemed to be on the best of terms together; and I helped to pack the cards and to pile the silver coins, sipping a glass of sherry with Mr Grey. My father said little, paying me no attention, but playing gravely with a very slight frown.
    â€˜After some little while the door opened, and a lady appeared. This was Mr Grey’s sister, Jane, I learned. She seated herself at her work-table, and drew me to her side.
    â€˜â€œWell, so this is Nicholas!” she said. “Or is it Nick?”
    â€˜â€œNicholas,” I said.
    â€˜â€œOf course,” she said, smiling, “and I like that too, much the best. How very kind of you to come to see me! It was to keep me company, you know, because I am very stupid at games, but I love talking. Do you?”
    â€˜I looked into her eyes, and knew we were friends. She smiled again, with open lips, and touched my mouth with her thimble. “Now, let me see, business first, and – me afterwards. You see I have three different kinds of cake, because, I thought, I cannot in the least tell which kind he’ll like best.