The Actress' Daughter: A Novel. May Agnes Fleming
Читать онлайн книгу.less than ten minutes after she had left him, Georgia stood beside Charley Wildair on the beach.
Charley looked up as they approached, and glancing at her companion, exclaimed:
"Hallo, Rich! Well, here's a slice of good luck, anyway. How in the world did you scare him up, Miss Georgia?"
"Why he ran against me," said Georgia, "and nearly knocked my brains out. Do you know him?"
"I should think I did – rather!" said Charley, emphatically. "Here, Rich, come and help me up, there's a good fellow!"
"What have you been at now?" said Rich, as he obeyed. "Some piece of nonsense, I'll be bound."
"No, sir, I haven't been at nonsense. I was attempting to treat myself to a rise in the world by climbing up that rock, and, losing my equilibrium, the first thing I knew I was gracefully extended at full length on the sands, with one limb slightly dislocated, as completely floored an individual as you ever clapped your eyes on. For further particulars, apply to Miss Georgia here. And that reminds me, you haven't been duly presented to that young woman. Allow me to repair that error before proceeding to business. Miss Darrell, let me have the pleasure of presenting to your distinguished notice, my brother, Mr. Richmond Wildair, a young man chiefly remarkable for a rash and inordinate attachment for musty old books, and – having his own way. Mr. Wildair, Miss Georgia Darrell, a young lady whose many estimable qualities and aggravating will of her own require to be seen to be appreciated. Ahem."
And having, with great empressment and pomposity, delivered himself of this "neat and appropriate" speech, Mr. Charles Wildair drew himself up with dignity – which, as he was obliged to stand on one foot, with the other elevated in the air, hardly made the impression it was intended to make.
Mr. Richmond Wildair held out his hand to Georgia with a smile, and, after looking at it for a moment, in evident doubt as to the propriety of shaking hands with him, she at last consented to do so with a grave solemnity quite irresistible.
And thus Richmond Wildair and Georgia Darrell met for the first time. And little did either dream of what the future had in store for them, as they stood side by side on the sands in the golden light of that breezy, sunshiny May morning.
CHAPTER V
"LADY MACBETH."
"Who that had seen her form so light,
For swiftness only turned,
Would e'er have thought in a thing so slight,
Such a fiery spirit burned."
"And now what am I expected to do next?" said Richmond, looking at his two companions. "I am entirely at your service, monsieur and mademoiselle."
"Why, you must help him up to our house," said Georgia, in her peremptory tone, "and let Miss Jerusha do something for his lame ankle."
"And after that you must transport yourself over to Burnfield with all possible dispatch, and procure a cart, car, gig, wagon, carriage, wheelbarrow, or any other vehicle wherein my remains can be hauled to that thriving town, for walking, you perceive, is a moral and physical impossibility."
"All right!" said Richmond. "Here, take my arm. How will you manage to get up this steep bank? Do you think you can walk it?"
"Nothing like trying," said Charley, as leaning on his brother's arm he limped along, while Georgia went before to show them the way. "Ah, that was a twinge. The gout must be a nice thing to have if it is at all like this. I never properly felt for those troubled with that fashionable and aristocratic disease before, but the amount of sympathy I shall do for the future will be something terrifying. Here we are; now then, up we go."
But Master Charley found that "up we go" was easier said than done. He attempted to mount the bank, but at the first effort he recoiled, while a flush of pain overspread his pale features.
"No go, trying to do that; get up there I can't if they were to make me Khan of Tartary for doing it. Ah – h – h! there's another twinge, as if a red-hot poker had been plunged into it. The way that ankle can go into the aching business requires to be felt to be appreciated."
Though he spoke lightly, yet two scarlet spots, forced there by the intense pain, burned on either cheek.
Richmond looked at him anxiously, for he loved his wild, harum-scarum, handsome young brother with a strong love.
"Oh, he can't walk; I know it hurts him; what will we do?" said Georgia, in a tone of such intense motherly solicitude that, in spite of his painful ankle, Charley smiled faintly.
"I know what I shall do," said Richmond, abruptly. "I shall carry him."
And suiting the action to the word, the elder brother – older only by two or three years, but much stronger and more compactly built than the somewhat delicate Charley – lifted him in his arms and proceeded to bear him up the rocks.
"Why, Richmond, old fellow," remonstrated Charley, "you'll kill yourself – rupture an artery, and all that sort of thing, you know; and then there'll be a pretty to do about it. Let go, and I'll walk it, in spite of the ankle. I can hold out as long as it can, I should hope."
"Never mind, Charley; I'm pretty strong, and you're not a killing weight, being all skin and bone, and nonsense pretty much. Keep still, and I will have you up in a twinkling."
"Be it so, then, most obliging youth. Really, it's not such a bad notion, this being carried – rather comfortable than otherwise."
"Now, don't keep on so, Charley," said Georgia, in a voice of motherly rebuke. "How is your ankle? Does it hurt you much now?"
"Well, after mature deliberation on the subject, I think I may safely say it does. It's aching just at this present writing as if for a wager," replied Charley, with a grimace.
Georgia glanced at Richmond, and seeing great drops of perspiration standing on his brow as he toiled up, said, in all sincerity:
"See here, you look tired to death. Do let me help you. I'm strong, and he ain't very heavy looking, and I guess I can carry him the rest of the way."
Richmond turned and looked at her in surprise, but seeing she was perfectly serious in her offer, he repressed his amusement and gravely declined; while Charley, less delicate, set up an indecorous laugh.
"Carry me up the hill! Oh, that's good! What would Curtis, and Dorset, and all the fellows say if they heard that, Rich? 'Pon honor, that's the best joke of the season! A little girl I could lift with one hand offering to carry me up hill?"
And Master Charley lay back and laughed till the tears stood in his eyes.
His laughter was brought to a sudden end by an unexpected sight. Little Georgia faced round, with flashing eyes and glowing cheeks, and, with a passionate stamp of her foot, exclaimed:
"How dare you laugh at me, you hateful, ill-mannered fellow? Don't you ever dare to do it again, or it won't be good for you! If you weren't hurt now, and not able to take your own part, I'd tear your eyes out! – I just would! Don't you DARE to laugh at me, sir!"
And with another fierce stamp of her foot, and wild flash of her eyes, she turned away and walked in the direction of the cottage.
For a moment the brothers were confounded by this unexpected and startling outburst – this new revelation of the unique child before them. There was in it something so different from the customary pouting anger of a child – something so nearly appalling in her fierce eyes and passionate gestures, that they looked at each other a moment in astounded silence before attempting to reply.
"Really, Georgia, I did not mean to offend," said Charley, at last, as they by this time reached the high-road, and the exhausted Richmond deposited him on his feet. "I am very sorry I have angered you, but I'm such a fellow to laugh, you know, that the least thing sets me off. Why I'd laugh at an empress, if she did or said anything droll. Come, forgive me, like a good girl!" and Charley, looking deeply penitent, held out his hand.
But Georgia was proud, and was not one to readily forgive what she considered an insult, so she drew herself back and up, and only replied by a dangerous