The Three Brides | Page 7

nice as a library," said Cecil, stabbing the fire with the poker as
a sort of act of possession. "We always sit in the library at Dunstone.
State rooms are horrid."
"This only wants to be littered down," said Rosamond. "That's my first
task in fresh quarters, banishing some things and upsetting the rest, and
strewing our own about judiciously. There are the inevitable
wax-flowers. I have regular blarney about their being so lovely, that it
would just go to my heart to expose them to the boys."
"You have always been on the move," said Cecil, who was standing by
the table examining the ornaments.
"You may say so! there are not many of Her Majesty's garrisons that I
have not had experience of, except my native country that I wasn't born
in. It was very mean of them never once to send us to Ireland."
"Where were you born?" said Cecil, neither of the two catching at the
bull which perhaps Rosamond had allowed to escape by way of trying
them.
"At Plymouth. Dick and I were both born at Plymouth, and Maurice at
Scutari; then we were in the West Indies; the next two were born all up
and down in Jamaica and all the rest of the Islands--Tom and
Terry--dear boys, I've got the charge of them now they are left at school.

Three more are Canadians; and little Nora is the only Irish-born one
amongst us."
"I thought you said you had never been in Ireland."
"Never quartered there, but on visits at Rathforlane," said Rosamond.
"Our ten years at home we have been up and down the world, till at last
you see I've ended where I began--at Plymouth."
"Oh, what a lovely Florentine mosaic!" exclaimed Cecil, who had taken
but slight interest in this itinerary. "It is just like a weight at Dunstone."
Then opening a miniature-case, "Who is this-- Mrs. Poynsett when she
was young?"
"Most likely," said Rosamond. "It is like her now, and very like
Charlie."
"Yes. Charles is quite unlike the family."
"What family?" said Rosamond.
"The Charnocks, of course. Raymond is a perfect Charnock!"
"A vast advantage," murmured Rosamond.
"Of course," said Cecil, taking it quite seriously. "No one else could be
the same thing to us. Papa said there was not a match in the whole
world that could have gratified him so much."
"How old are you, Cecil?" quoth Rosamond, with a ripple in her voice.
"Oh, his age was no matter. I don't like young men. That's not the
drawback; no, it is that horrid Poynsett at the end of the name."
"You see you had better have waived your objections to youth, and
taken a younger son."
"I couldn't," said this naive young person. "Besides, there is much more
of a field for me here than at Dunstone since papa's marriage."

Whatever Rosamond had on the tip of her tongue was averted by the
entrance of the three younger brothers. Julius seated himself beside her
in the cushioned fireside corner; and Cecil asked where Raymond was.
"Just stepped in to see my mother," said Frank. "This room opens into
hers. Will you come to them?"
"Not yet," said Cecil. "I want you to tell me about the neighbourhood."
"Just what I want," said Rosamond. "Whenever I ask, Julius always
says there's Dr. Easterby."
Frank and Charlie burst out laughing.
"Dr. Easterby is one of the greatest men in the English Church," said
Julius.
"Precisely! But what is the regiment at Backsworth?" and as Charlie
named it, "Oh, what fun! That's where Laurie Cookson exchanged. He
will be sure to send us cards for everything."
"At Dunstone we never used to go to garrison gaieties," said Cecil,
gravely.
"Oh! I'm a military pariah," said Rosamond, hastily.
"Who are the land-owners?" continued Cecil. "There was a place I saw
from the line, but Raymond didn't hear when I asked whose it was.
Close to the station, I mean."
"That is Sirenwood," said Charles. "Sir Harry Vivian's. He is just come
back there with his two daughters."
"I thought Emily Vivian was dead," said Julius. "You don't mean that
women!"
"That woman?" laughed his wife. "What has she done to be a that
woman?"

"Offended his Reverence," said Frank, in that sort of jocose tone which
betrays annoyance.
"A heartless mischievous woman!" said Julius.
Rosamond cocked up her left eyebrow with an ineffably droll look,
which encouraged Charlie to say, "Such fierceness can only be
prompted by personal experience. Look out, Rosamond!"
"Come 'fess, Julius," said she, merrily. "'Fess and make it up."
"I--I have nothing to confess," said Julius, seriously.
"Hasn't he indeed?" said she, looking at the brothers.
"Oh! don't ask us," said Charlie. "His youthful indiscretions were over
long before our eyes had risen above the horizon!"