The Admiral's Daughter Read Free Page A

utter disbelief, a cunning light came into the clergyman’s eye. “Oh, I see what you are doing! I have heard that young ladies count it as a point of pride never to accept the first offer. They like to bide their time, and after they have had their fun, they give in, as they always intended doing.”
    Maggie was at her wits’ end. “But I assure you I have no such intention, Mr. Wayland! I am the most plain-spoken creature you will ever meet, and detest all manner of deviousness. If I wished to marry you, you should know it without any doubt. My refusal is likewise definite; I shallnever consent to be your wife. Now you had better get up off the ground.”
    But Mr. Wayland would not budge. His knee was numb, and his mind determined.
    â€œIf you dislike the vicarage here, Miss Trevor, I should mention—though it is not yet a certainty—that I have hopes of a better living. It is such an excellent situation in every wise, affording not only an increase in stature, but proximity to one of the best families in England, that even you, Miss Trevor, cannot scoff at it. No, no! Pray let me finish! The park is very grand, and the lady of the family has hinted that, should I take the living, I and my family would be welcome to use it. Besides, we should have the advantage of a close association with the family, who are a very tonnish kind of people, fond of music, with a great deal of society always about them. You should be privy to the wittiest conversations, the most stylish arguments—so much amusement, in fact, I am certain even you cannot dislike. Perhaps you might even be on intimate terms with the daughter, who I am told, is a most elegant young lady.”
    â€œSo much inducement,” replied Maggie in a dry tone, “could hardly persuade me to love anyone. Had I the advantage of a husband whose tastes I shared, I should want no further company. And without the first requisite, every other recommendation is superfluous. My decision, Mr. Wayland, will not be changed. And now, I must beg you to get up, for I have a great deal to do indoors, and must give up your company.”
    Mr. Wayland had no choice, at this, but to rise to his feet and accompany Miss Trevor back to the entrance of the house. This he did with so sullen an expression, and so strong a feeling of resentment in his heart, that the pain in his knee was as nothing in comparison. Sly creature! She would lead him on in this fashion, and then reject him! So like a woman! He made no attempt to speak, and for once, Maggie had the whole length of the walk to make conversation. Her bright, impersonal chatter, however, was kept up without any of the joy it might have afforded her—only for knowing she had managed to get a word in edge-wise while in the curate’s company—at another time. When they had reached the terrace which surrounded the south entrance, Mr. Wayland stopped.
    â€œMy company,” he said with a great bitterness, “cannotplease you very well, Miss Trevor. I shall not burden you with it any more.”
    And with a stiff bow and a last accusing look, the curate turned upon his heel and hobbled off across the meadow.

Two
    IT HAS BEEN said that the history of mankind is divided equally between the sublime and the ridiculous. Surely as many great wars, resulting in untold horrors and death, had their beginnings in a comedy of errors as those begun by the thoughtful decisions of wise men. Individual lives are often conducted in the same fashion.
    The unfortunate Mr. Wayland, limping back to his vicarage across the meadow, could hardly have guessed what a dire effect the sight of him had had upon Admiral Trevor. Most certainly he could not have imagined that one look at the Vicar, with his hair plastered down upon his prematurely balding pate and his arms sawing the air in eloquent gesticulation, had caused the stern old officer to revise his opinion of an ancient quarrel.
    Many years before, when