Felicia Speaks Out
FELICIA had determined it should be a long while before she would visit her uncle again without he sent for her, in which case she supposed, on reflection, she would be obliged to do his bidding; but when, on the evening after he had treated her so unjustly, she had finished preparing her lessons for the next day, and had gone into the garden, something prompted her to fix herself on a seat under an arbutus tree, from which she could, if she liked, view the more modern wing of the Priory and the windows of her uncle's apartments.
At first she studiously avoided glancing at the upper windows of the house, and opening the story-book she had brought out-of-doors with her—one Doris had lent her—she commenced to read; but she failed to find it interesting. On ordinary occasions the tale would have chained her attention, but this evening she could not concentrate her thoughts. Other words than those on the printed page kept recurring to her mind—words she had read in her Bible that morning: "And be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you."
"Uncle Guy wasn't kind to me last night," she reflected; "of course, if he sent for me I'd go to see him, I shan't otherwise."
She glanced up hastily, but the lace curtains were drawn before her uncle's sitting-room window; she saw one move, however, and guessed she was being watched from inside. If Uncle Guy would pull back the curtain and beckon to her, or even give her a smile of encouragement, she would go and talk to him for a little while; but though she stared at the window for several minutes, there was no further sign that she was observed.
"And be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted—"
Felicia sighed as the words rang in her ears again. She had not had much time to think of Uncle Guy during the day, for her mind had been fully occupied with her lessons, and on her return to the Priory at four o'clock she had sought Mrs. Price and consulted her about the hamper her grandfather had said was to be sent to Mrs. M'Cosh. Mrs. Price had promised the hamper should be despatched on the morrow, and Felicia had accordingly written to her kind friend telling her what she was to expect and when it would arrive, so that she had really had no opportunity to dwell on Uncle Guy's harshness to her till now. And he had been very harsh to her, she reminded herself, as her heart began to soften towards him. He had spoken roughly, and his temper had been unjustifiable. Still, he must be very lonely, she thought, and perhaps unhappy, too. If he would only look out of the window for a moment, she would be able to judge by the expression of his face if he wanted her or not; she hesitated to go to him, fearing a repulse.
Once more she tried to read, but it was no good, she could not; so at last she shut the book with an impatient sigh, and rising, walked slowly across the lawn towards the house. At the front door Lion joined her, and followed her upstairs. Her mind was made up now, she was going to see Uncle Guy, whether he wished it or not.
"You must be on your best behaviour if you come with me," Felicia informed her companion gravely; "I daresay Uncle Guy won't want either of us, but we'll certainly find out."
Lion wagged his tail by way of response, and hurrying ahead, preceded her down the corridor, pausing before the crimson-curtained door. Felicia's hand trembled as she pulled back the curtain, and gave a gentle tap.