| | 1 | Author: | Cary
Alice
1820-1871 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The bishop's son  | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | THE sunshine was hot between the April showers,
and the rude, rickety door-stones (they could
hardly be called door-steps) of the old farmhouse
to which, they led, were wet and dry
almost at the same moment, happening at the
moment in which our story opens, to be dry; the fickle
clouds had scattered, and the sun was shining with pretty
nearly midsummer heat. It was about noon-day, and the
young girl who had been busy all the morning digging in
the flower-beds that lay on either side a straight path running
from the front door to the front gate, suddenly tossed
aside her bonnet, and flung herself down on the steps. She
was tired, and rather lay than sat; and a pleasant picture
she made, her flushed cheek on her arm, the cape, lately
tied at her throat, drawn carelessly to her lap, her tiny
naked feet sunken in the grass, and all her fair neck and
dimpled shoulders bare. “My sweet Sister Fairfax: When I was under your
hospitable roof, a day or two since,” (he had not been
under the roof at all, remember), “I had the rashness to
make a proposal to your little daughter which I have not
the courage to carry out without your permission. But to
come at once to the head and front of my offending, I proposed
to take her to see our unfortunate brother, Samuel
Dale, of whom, by the way, I hear sad accounts. It seemed
to me that it might gratify the childish fondness she appears
to feel for him, and do no harm, but you, of course, are the
best judge of this, and on second thoughts I have been led
to distrust my first impulse; but the little darling has a
strange power upon me, and I could not see her suffering
without at least seeking to relieve it. If you approve of
my suggestion I will report myself for duty in a day or two,
so soon as I shall be well enough, and, as I am in the skilful
hands of Dr. Allprice, I entertain the most sanguine hopes.
If you do not approve, pray forgive me, and believe me, in
the deepest penitence, “My sweet Kate: — To prove to you that your memory
has been fondly cherished all these years, I return to you a
little souvenir that is dearer to me than the `ruddy drops
that visit this sad heart.' Suffer no harm to come to it, but
let me have it back; I will hold it for a talisman, `and
call upon it in a storm, and save the ship from perishing
some time.' “I am off a little sooner than I expected, dear Sam,” he
said, “and cannot well spare the money to pay the note that
will be handed you with this; please arrange it for me and
add one more to my many obligations. I will be back at
farthest in six weeks, and then we will square up, once for
all, I hope. Everything looks bright for me as a May morning.
By the way, Kate is charmed with you; she comes
near making me jealous! Always and always your affectionate | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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