The Captives [35]
She discovered in Aunt Elizabeth's bedroom a bound volume of Good Words, and with this seated herself by the drawing- room fire. Soon she slept.
She was awakened by a consciousness that some one was in the room and, sitting up, staring through the gloom, heard a movement near the door, a rustle, a little jingle, a laugh.
"Is any one there?" said a high, shrill voice.
Maggie got up.
"I'm here," she said.
Some one came forward; it was the girl of the blue dress who had smiled at Maggie in chapel. She held out her hand--"I hope you don't think me too awful. My name's Caroline Smith. How do you do?"
They shook hands. Maggie, still bewildered by sleep, said, stammering," Won't you sit down? I beg your pardon. My aunts--"
"Oh, it isn't the aunts I wanted to see," replied Miss Smith, laughing so that a number of little bracelets jingled most tunefully together. "I came to see you. We smiled at one another in chapel. It was your first time, wasn't it? Didn't you think it all awfully quaint?"
"Won't you sit down?" said Maggie again, "and I'll ring for the lamp."
"Oh! don't ring for the lamp. I like the dusk. And we can make friends so much better without a lamp. I always say if you want to know anybody really well, don't have a light."
She seated herself near the fire, arranging her dress very carefully, patting her hair beneath her hat, poking her shoes out from beneath her skirts, then withdrawing them again. "Well, what do you think of it all?"
Maggie stared. She did not know what to say. She had never met any one in the least like this before.
"I do hope," Miss Smith went on, "that you don't think me forward. I daresay you do. But I can't bear wasting time. Of course I heard that you were coming, so then I looked out for you in chapel to-day. I thought you looked so nice that I said to mother, 'I'll go and see her this very afternoon.' Of course I've known your aunts for ages. I'm always in and out here so that it isn't as bad as it seems. They'll all be back for tea soon and I want to have a talk first."
"Thank you very much," was all that Maggie could think of to say.
"You've come to live here, haven't you?" continued Miss Smith. "I'm so glad. I think you look so nice. You don't mind my saying that, do you? I always tell people what I think of them and then one knows where one is. Now, do tell me--I'm simply dying to know--what do you think of everything?"
"Well," said Maggie, smiling, "I only arrived here yesterday. It's rather difficult to say."
"Oh! I know. I saw Mr. Magnus this morning and he told me that he met you. He said you were ill. You don't look ill."
"It was very silly of me," said Maggie, "I don't know what made me faint. I've never done such a thing before."
"I used to faint simply heaps of times when I was a kid," said Miss Smith, "I was always doing it. I had all sorts of doctors. They thought I'd never grow up. I'm not very strong now really. They say it's heart, but I always say it can't be that because I've given it all away." Here Miss Smith laughed immoderately.
"Weren't they the most terrible set of frumps at chapel this morning?"
She did not wait for an answer, but went on: "Mr. Warlock's all right, of course. I think he's such a fine-looking man, don't you? Of course he's old now, but his beard's rather attractive I think. He's a duck, but isn't that harmonium ghastly? I can't think why they don't buy an organ, they're most awfully rich I know, and do simply nothing with their money."
"Why do you go," said Maggie, "if you think it all so dreadful?"
"Oh! I have to go," said Miss Smith, "to please mother. And one has to do something on Sunday, and besides one sees one's friends. Did you notice Martin Warlock, Mr. Warlock's son, you know. He was sitting quite close to me."
"He was here yesterday afternoon," said Maggie quietly.
"Oh, was he really? Now that is interesting. I wonder what he came for. He scarcely ever comes here. Did you like him?"
"I didn't speak to him," said Maggie.
"Of course he's only been here a little time.
She was awakened by a consciousness that some one was in the room and, sitting up, staring through the gloom, heard a movement near the door, a rustle, a little jingle, a laugh.
"Is any one there?" said a high, shrill voice.
Maggie got up.
"I'm here," she said.
Some one came forward; it was the girl of the blue dress who had smiled at Maggie in chapel. She held out her hand--"I hope you don't think me too awful. My name's Caroline Smith. How do you do?"
They shook hands. Maggie, still bewildered by sleep, said, stammering," Won't you sit down? I beg your pardon. My aunts--"
"Oh, it isn't the aunts I wanted to see," replied Miss Smith, laughing so that a number of little bracelets jingled most tunefully together. "I came to see you. We smiled at one another in chapel. It was your first time, wasn't it? Didn't you think it all awfully quaint?"
"Won't you sit down?" said Maggie again, "and I'll ring for the lamp."
"Oh! don't ring for the lamp. I like the dusk. And we can make friends so much better without a lamp. I always say if you want to know anybody really well, don't have a light."
She seated herself near the fire, arranging her dress very carefully, patting her hair beneath her hat, poking her shoes out from beneath her skirts, then withdrawing them again. "Well, what do you think of it all?"
Maggie stared. She did not know what to say. She had never met any one in the least like this before.
"I do hope," Miss Smith went on, "that you don't think me forward. I daresay you do. But I can't bear wasting time. Of course I heard that you were coming, so then I looked out for you in chapel to-day. I thought you looked so nice that I said to mother, 'I'll go and see her this very afternoon.' Of course I've known your aunts for ages. I'm always in and out here so that it isn't as bad as it seems. They'll all be back for tea soon and I want to have a talk first."
"Thank you very much," was all that Maggie could think of to say.
"You've come to live here, haven't you?" continued Miss Smith. "I'm so glad. I think you look so nice. You don't mind my saying that, do you? I always tell people what I think of them and then one knows where one is. Now, do tell me--I'm simply dying to know--what do you think of everything?"
"Well," said Maggie, smiling, "I only arrived here yesterday. It's rather difficult to say."
"Oh! I know. I saw Mr. Magnus this morning and he told me that he met you. He said you were ill. You don't look ill."
"It was very silly of me," said Maggie, "I don't know what made me faint. I've never done such a thing before."
"I used to faint simply heaps of times when I was a kid," said Miss Smith, "I was always doing it. I had all sorts of doctors. They thought I'd never grow up. I'm not very strong now really. They say it's heart, but I always say it can't be that because I've given it all away." Here Miss Smith laughed immoderately.
"Weren't they the most terrible set of frumps at chapel this morning?"
She did not wait for an answer, but went on: "Mr. Warlock's all right, of course. I think he's such a fine-looking man, don't you? Of course he's old now, but his beard's rather attractive I think. He's a duck, but isn't that harmonium ghastly? I can't think why they don't buy an organ, they're most awfully rich I know, and do simply nothing with their money."
"Why do you go," said Maggie, "if you think it all so dreadful?"
"Oh! I have to go," said Miss Smith, "to please mother. And one has to do something on Sunday, and besides one sees one's friends. Did you notice Martin Warlock, Mr. Warlock's son, you know. He was sitting quite close to me."
"He was here yesterday afternoon," said Maggie quietly.
"Oh, was he really? Now that is interesting. I wonder what he came for. He scarcely ever comes here. Did you like him?"
"I didn't speak to him," said Maggie.
"Of course he's only been here a little time.