Prev | Current Page 415 | Next

Warfield, Catherine A.

"Miriam Monfort A Novel"

The carpet
of crimson and white seemed to the eye what it afterward proved to the
foot--thick, soft, and elastic; and harmonized well with the rich,
antique, and consistent furniture.
The sort of microscopic scrutiny that children manifest seemed mine--in
my unreasoning, half-convalescent state; and for a time I observed all
that I have described with a listless pleasure, difficult to analyze, a
sort of dreamy acceptance of my condition, the very memory of which
exasperated me, later, almost to self-contempt.
A crimson cord hung at one side of my bed, continued from a bell-wire at
some distance, the tassel of which I touched lightly, and, at the very
first signal, Mrs. Clayton appeared through the hitherto only unopened
door, to know and do my bidding.
The clock on the mantel-shelf struck nine as she stood beside me, and
made respectful inquiries concerning my wants and condition;
understanding which, she disappeared, to return a few minutes later,
followed by an ancient negress, bearing a silver waiter.
I recognized in this sable assistant (or thought I recognized at a
glance) my companion in shipwreck; but, upon making known my
convictions, was met with a prompt denial by the sable dame herself,
who, shaking her head, gave me to understand, in a few broken words,
that she "no understood English--only Spanish tongue!"
Her dress--handsome and Frenchified--her creole coiffure, and the long
gray locks that escaped from her crimson kerchief bound over her ears,
as well as her more refined deportment, did indeed seem to discredit my
first idea, which came at last (notwithstanding these discrepancies) to
be fixed, and proved one link in the long chain of duplicity I untangled
later.


Pages:
403 404 405 406 407 408 409 410 411 412 413 414 415 416 417 418 419 420 421 422 423 424 425 426 427