CHAPTER VI.
THE VISIT.
If my readers have been only half as much interested in Mrs. Wilmot'saccount of Cecille as I was, they will not have thought it too long.Before it was concluded, I had determined to become better acquaintedwith Cecille L'Estrange; and when, immediately after an early, oneo'clock dinner, Clara and Grace put on their bonnets, knowing that theywere going to see her, I asked to walk with them. They were very glad tohave my company, but asked if I would go with them through the wood andacross the fields--there were only two fences to climb, and if they wentby the road, they were afraid Cecille would have set out before theycould get to her house. This suited me well; for I had always rather gothrough a wood and across fields, than by a dusty road--so we were soonon the way. We walked on very quickly, not even stopping to pick thelate fall flowers which we saw, though we marked their places that wemight get them as we came back. The second field we crossed opened uponMrs. Daly's orchard, from which we passed through the yard, and wouldhave entered the house by the back door, had not Mrs. Daly met us andbegged that we would go around to the front. "Not that I care about it,ma'am," said she to me in an apologizing manner: "front or back, it'sall the same to me; but the good old lady in there"--pointing to theroom near which we stood--"she's a clever body, but she has some queernotions. I guess she's been a lady born, and she don't like somehow thatpeople should see them work--so she wants everybody to go to the frontdoor, and in the parlor, where they only do some of their light works;and as I said before, it's all the same to widow Daly--so if you please,ma'am, I'll show you the way round."
While Mrs. Daly was speaking, I had caught a view through the half openshutter of the inside of the room to which she had pointed. An old lady,dressed in a silk wrapper which even at that distance looked old andfaded, was seated in one of Mrs. Daly's high-backed, straw-bottomedchairs, near a small table on which was spread a clean white towel. Aplate with a slice of bread was before her. At the fireplace stood ayoung girl stooping over a furnace of coal, on which was a small pan.Though she had changed her dress and covered her head with ahandkerchief, probably to keep her hair free from ashes or soot, I hadno difficulty in recognising Cecille. She held a spoon in her hand, andoccasionally used it to turn or stir what was in the pan. I was so muchinterested in observing her movements, that I said to Mrs. Daly that Iwould let Clara and Grace go to the front door, and speak to Cecille,and I would await them where I then was. The children and Mrs. Daly hadjust left me, when I saw Cecille's glowing and pleased face turnedtowards her grandmother, while by the motion of her hand she seemed toask for her plate. The old lady held it out, the pan was taken from thefire, and what seemed to me an omelet was laid on the plate. This, youknow, is made of eggs, and it requires some skill in cookery to make itwell. I judged from Cecille's looks that she thought this was well done.She was evidently more pleased with her success, more vain of herpowers, in cooking, than in painting and embroidery. From hergrandmother's pleased countenance, I was sure she was praising theomelet and its maker. After a while, however, the old lady looked alittle sad. She kissed Cecille's cheek as she was bending over her, andtaking the handkerchief from her head, smoothed the hair back from herforehead. Then she offered Cecille her plate, and seemed to urge her totake some of her own cookery; but, with a smile and shake of the head,Cecille turned to a cupboard, and taking from it a bowl of milk andanother plate of bread, placed them on the table. She was just seatingherself by her grandmother, when Mrs. Daly opened the door. After somewords from her, Cecille rose and left the room, and but a few minutespassed before I was again joined by my young companions. We walked moreleisurely home again, and did not now leave the flowers unplucked.
Aunt Kitty's Tales Page 33