I don't
want anything of anybody!" Presently, all would blow away just like a
cloud, and she would love and be gay, until something fresh, perhaps not
at all meant to hurt her, would again hurt her horribly. In reality,
the whole household loved and admired her. But she was one of those
delicate-treading beings, born with a skin too few, who--and especially
in childhood--suffer from themselves in a world born with a skin too
many.
To Winton's extreme delight, she took to riding as a duck to water, and
knew no fear on horseback. She had the best governess he could get her,
the daughter of an admiral, and, therefore, in distressed circumstances;
and later on, a tutor for her music, who came twice a week all the
way from London--a sardonic man who cherished for her even more secret
admiration than she for him. In fact, every male thing fell in love
with her at least a little. Unlike most girls, she never had an epoch
of awkward plainness, but grew like a flower, evenly, steadily. Winton
often gazed at her with a sort of intoxication; the turn of her head,
the way those perfectly shaped, wonderfully clear brown eyes would
"fly," the set of her straight, round neck, the very shaping of her
limbs were all such poignant reminders of what he had so loved. And yet,
for all that likeness to her mother, there was a difference, both in
form and character.
Pages:
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28