CHAPTER II.

Circumstances had prevented my going to Rathfelder's Hotel (my young

readers will understand it is Maria Marlow who now speaks) when, on a

former occasion, Charlotte had been taken there, and I was gleefully

chatting away to uncle and aunt of the anticipated pleasure as the former

at last made her appearance.

"Oh, Lotty, Lotty, my child, how comes it about that you are again so late

for breakfast?" aunty said, more in a tone of kindness than reproof, as

she raised her face to receive the customary kiss which we always bestowed

upon both our guardians when first greeting them in the morning; "you

promised that for the future you would endeavour to be earlier."

"Yes, and it's all Susan's fault that I have not kept my promise this

morning, aunty. I was out of bed, waiting for her to come and get me my

bath, for nearly—" Here Charlotte, meeting uncle's eyes, suddenly checked

herself, remembering how greatly he and aunt disapproved of an exaggerated

style of speaking. The real truth was, as Susan had told me, that about

eight or ten minutes had elapsed between the time of my looking into the

bed-room to see if Lotty was up, which she was not, and my sending her

there; and even that time need not have been wasted had Charlotte taken

the trouble to ring her bell. "For a long while, at any rate," she

continued. "Mechie came and found me sitting on the bedside—didn't you,

Mechie?—and stared at me as though I had been a ghost," she concluded,

sinking indolently into her chair.

I was glad to take refuge in a light laugh instead of further answer,

knowing how little the case admitted of any reply likely to prove

satisfactory to Charlotte. To my relief, also, uncle covered my silence by

saying gently:

"Do not forget your grace, my dear girl. Let us always bear in mind from

whose gracious hand it is we receive every blessing we enjoy, and be

grateful with our hearts and thankful with our lips."

Charlotte directly stood up, and silently bent her fair head for a few

seconds, and again resumed her seat. Aunt Rossiter did not at that time

farther press the point on the subject of late rising. She detected, by

our manner, that something was wrong, but, as was her custom on like

occasions—that is, whenever the matter in hand seemed taking a zigzag

course instead of the straight road of truth—she delayed speaking until

such time as more favourable circumstances or a better state of feeling in

the delinquent rendered it judicious to do so.

The breakfast was nearly concluded as Charlotte came in, and soon after

Uncle Rossiter rose to quit the room. In passing her chair he

affectionately laid his hand on her head, saying, gravely, "In being down

so late, my child, mark, what are the consequences: first and principally,

you have missed the prayer and chapter in the Bible; secondly, the meal is

nearly over, therefore all is cold and comfortless; thirdly, you have

vexed your good, kind aunt, to say nothing of myself, and now you must

hasten, for the carriage will be at the door by ten, as we must not lose

the cool part of the day for driving."

"Oh no, we will all manage to be ready by then, I am sure," rejoined Aunt

Rossiter, cheerfully.

"Yes, we are sure to be ready, dear uncle," I cried, more warmly, perhaps,

than I might otherwise have spoken. But my heart longed to say something

to brighten his kind face, which was just then looking unusually grave,

and Charlotte's general expression did not at that moment promise much in

the way of concession. She seemed altogether too greatly disconcerted by

the comfortless aspect of the breakfast-table to heed anything else.

Uncle smiled affectionately upon me, his fine, benevolent eyes kindling as

he did so.

"Bear in mind what I am saying to you, my dear Lotty, when Susan calls you

of a morning," he continued, again looking down on Charlotte; "remember

that a sluggard in body is sure to be a sluggard in soul; remember that to

win that prize which is above all price you must be active and energetic;

remember what St. Paul says about those that strive or run to obtain a

corruptible crown, and how he speaks of incorruptible. 'So run that ye may

obtain.'"

Uncle then left the room without waiting for an answer, reiterating his

request, however, as he went out, that we would be in time.

"Oh yes, dear uncle, depend upon it we will," I again repeated.

"Speak for yourself, Mechie, and don't undertake to answer for others,"

Lotty said in a quiet, half-sulky voice; "I will not promise by any means

to be ready by ten, seeing I have only just begun my breakfast, and have,

as you know, a very particular objection to being hurried over my meals."

"If you are not ready by the time your uncle wishes to start, my dear

Lotty, we shall be under the unpleasant necessity of going without you,"

answered Aunt Rossiter in a tone so serious and firm that Charlotte did

not attempt to dispute it, and silently continued her breakfast. Aunt then

left the room. How much I wished that Charlotte would eat with a little

less deliberation! At this rate of proceeding, I thought, she certainly

never can or will be ready by ten.

"Perhaps, while you are finishing—" I began, when she interrupted me,

sharply:

"I beg to observe that I am only just beginning."

"Well, then, perhaps more correctly speaking, while you are eating your

breakfast, had I not better run up and tell Susan what we are going to

wear, that she may get all ready for us, so as not to lose time?"

"Do as you like."

"What shall she put out for you?"

"I don't know; I've not thought about it."

"Oh, but do think about it, Lotty, please do," I urged, coaxingly; "I am

certain to be ready myself, but there is so little time now left, I fear,

unless you hurry more, you will not be dressed when the carriage comes to

the door, and oh, I can't say how vexed I should be to go without you."

"The vexation will all be on your side, then; I should not care a bit."

"Oh, Lotty, is it a matter of such indifference to you whether uncle and

aunt are distressed by your behaviour, to say nothing of me?"

"If uncle chooses to fix the time of our destination at so unreasonably

early an hour, he must care very little whether I come or not, and

therefore is not likely to feel much distress one way or the other, and as

aunt quite seconded him, she, of course, thinks the same."

"But, Lotty, you know that everybody who can manage it sets off as early

as that, or sooner, when they have a long drive before them; besides, the

principal point is to secure a good long day at Rathfelder's. However, I

must not waste time in talking, but run and get everything as forward as

circumstances will admit of."

"Pray do; it will be quite a relief to be rid of you in your present

worrying mood," replied Charlotte, coldly.

I had an uncomfortable misgiving in my heart that Charlotte's more than

indifference to the expedition, together with her unhappy fit of

ill-humour (which, to do her justice, was not a kind of temper of frequent

occurrence in her), would unite in rendering her so careless about coming

that the carriage would be at the door before she had even quitted the

breakfast-table. So I hurried up stairs and ran to lay the case, with as

much consideration for Lotty as it admitted of, before our kind old nurse

and good, sensible friend, Susan Bridget.

Rathfelder's Hotel · 第 2 / 17 章