The Reflections of Ambrosine - A Novel | Page 7

nobody.
Just as Miss Burton was leaving Mr. Gurrage rode up. He tried to open
the gate with the end of his whip, but he could not, and would have had
to dismount only Miss Burton rushed forward to open it for him. Then
he got down and held the bridle over his arm and walked up the little
path.
"Send some one to hold my horse," he said to Hephzibah, who
answered his ring at the door. I could hear, as the window was a little
open and he has a loud voice.
"There is no one to send, sir," said Hephzibah, who, I am sure, felt
annoyed. Two laborers happened to be passing in the road, and he got
one of them to hold his horse, and so came in at last. He is unattractive
when you see him in a room; he seemed blustering and yet ill at ease.
But he did not thank us for keeping the suite clean! He was awfully
friendly, and asked us to make use of his garden, and, in fact, anything
we wanted. I hardly spoke at all.
"You have made a snug little crib of it," he said, in such a patronizing
voice--how I dislike sentences like that; I don't know whether or no
they are slang (grandmamma says I use slang myself sometimes!), but
"a snug little crib" does not please me. He took off his glove when I
gave him some tea, and he has thick, common hands, and he fidgeted
and bounced up if I moved to take grandmamma her cup, and said each
time, "Allow me," and that is another sentence I do not like. In fact, I
think he is a horrid young man, and I wish he was not our landlord. He
actually squeezed my hand when he said good-bye. I had no intention
of doing more than to make a bow, but he thrust his hand out so that I
could not help it.
"You'll find your way up to Ledstone, anyway, won't you?" he said,
with a sort of affectionate look.

Grandmamma found him insupportable, she told me when he was gone.
She even preferred the mother.
The following week I was sent up to The Hall with Roy and
grandmamma's card to return the visit. They were at home,
unfortunately, and I had to leave my dear companion lying on the steps
to wait for me. Such a fearful house! An enormous stained-glass
window in the hall, the shape of a church window, only not with saints
and angels in it; more like the pattern of a kaleidoscope that one peeps
into with one eye, and then bunches of roses and silly daisies in some
of the panes, which, I am sure, are unsuitable to a stained-glass window.
There were ugly negro figures from Venice, holding plates, in the
passage, and stuffed bears for lamps, and such a look of newness about
everything! I was taken along to Mrs. Gurrage's "budwar," as she called
it. That was a room to remember! It had a "suite" in it like the one at
the cottage, only with Louis XV. legs and Louis XVI. backs, and a
general expression of distortion, and all of the newest gilt-and-crimson
satin brocade. And under a glass case in the corner was the top of a
wedding-cake and a bunch of orange blossoms.
I was kept waiting about ten minutes, and then Mrs. Gurrage bustled in,
fastening her cuff. I can't put down all she said, but it was one continual
praise of "Gussie" and his wealth and the jewels he had given her, and
how disappointed he would be not to see me. Miss Hoad poured out the
tea and giggled twice. I think she must be what Hephzibah calls
"wanting." At last I got away. Roy barked with pleasure as we started
homeward.
We had not gone a hundred yards before we met Mr. Gurrage coming
up the drive. He insisted upon turning back and walking with me. He
said it was "beastly hard luck"--he has horrid phrases--his being out
when I came, and would I please not to walk so fast, as we should so
soon arrive at the cottage, and he wanted to talk to me. I simply
pranced on after that. I do not know why people should want to talk to
one when one does not want to talk to them. I was not agreeable, but he
did all the speaking. He told me he belonged to the Yeomanry and they
were "jolly fellows" and were going to give a ball soon at

Tilchester--the county town nearest here--and that I must let his mother
take me to it. It was to be a send-off to the detachment which had
volunteered for South Africa.
A