ARCHIE IS IN A BAD HUMOR.
“Oh, Archie, I was never more astonished in my life!” exclaimed Mattie, as she tried to adapt her uneven trot to her brother’s long swinging footsteps; and then she glanced up in his face to read his mood: but Archie’s features were inscrutable and presented an appalling blank. In his mind he was beginning his letter to Grace, and wondering what he should say to her about their new neighbors. “Writing is such a nuisance when one wants to talk to a person,” he thought, irritably.
“Oh, Archie, won’t you tell me what we are to do?” went on Mattie, excitedly. She would not take Archie’s silence as a hint that he wanted to keep his thoughts to himself. “Those 140 poor girls! oh, how nice and pretty they all are, especially the eldest! and is not the youngest—Dulce, I think they called her—the very image of Isabel?”
“Isabel! not a bit. That is so like you, Mattie. You always see likenesses when other people cannot trace the faintest resemblance,” for this remark was sure to draw out his opposition. Isabel was a silly flirting little thing in her brother’s estimation, and, he thought, could not hold a candle to the youngest Miss Challoner.
“Oh dear! now I have made you cross!” sighed poor Mattie, who especially wanted to keep him in good humor. “And yet every one but you thinks Isabel so pretty. I am sure, from what Grace said in her last letter, that Mr. Ellis Burton means to propose to her.”
“And I suppose you will all consider that a catch,” sneered Archie. “That is so like a parcel of women, thinking every man who comes to the house and makes a few smooth-tongued speeches—is, in fact, civil—must be after a girl. Of course you have all helped to instill this nonsense into the child’s head.”
“Dear me, how you talk, Archie!” returned Mattie, feeling herself snubbed as usual. Why, Archie had been quite excited about it only the other day, and had said quite seriously that with seven girls in a family, it would be a great blessing if Isabel could make such a match; for it was very unlikely that Laura and Susie, or even Clara, would do much for themselves in that way, unless they decidedly improved in looks.
“Well, it is nothing to me,” he returned in a chilling manner; “we all know our own mind best. If an angular lantern-jawed fellow like Burton, who, by the bye, does not speak the best English, is to Isabel’s taste, let her have him by all means: he is well-to-do, and I dare say will keep a carriage for her by and by: that is what you women think a great advantage,” finished Archie, who certainly seemed bent on making himself disagreeable.
Mattie heaved another great sigh, but she did not dare to contradict him. Grace would have punished him on the spot by a dose of satire that would have brought him to reason and good nature in a moment; but Mattie ventured only on those laborious sighs which she jerked up from the bottom of her honest little heart.
Archie heard the sigh, and felt ashamed of his bad temper. He did not know himself why he felt so suddenly cross; some secret irritation was at work within him, and he could scarcely refrain from bidding Mattie quite roughly to hold her tongue and not tease him with her chatter. If she expected him in his present state of mind, which was at once contradictory and aggressive, to talk to her about the Challoners, she must just make up her mind to be disappointed, for he could not bring himself to speak of them to her just now: he wanted to hold counsel with his own thoughts and with Grace. He would call at the 141 Friary again and see Mrs. Challoner, and find out more of this strange matter; but as to talking it over with Mattie, he quite shrugged his shoulders as he swung open the green door.