Read Online A School for Brides by Patrice Kindl - Free Book Online Page A

that he wished to be thought younger than his years.
    â€œDyes his hair and wears a girdle,” murmured Robert in Miss Asquith’s ear, having ascertained these details from the maid at the Blue Swan whose job it was to clean his room. The young ladies were in their backboards again, which made it rather awkward as she leaned in to listen. “And he’s a great one for the lasses, says Mary,” he added. “Can’t leave a female alone in a room with him, she says.”
    â€œWhat are you telling Miss Asquith, Robert?” demanded Miss Winthrop. “It is not suitable for you to hold
private
discourse with any of our young ladies. What were you saying?”
    â€œOh, Miss Winthrop!” said Robert, whose natural friendliness and convivial spirit often led him into these sorts of errors. “I’m so sorry, Miss.”
    â€œIt was my fault,” interposed Miss Asquith, straightening up and pivoting toward her instructor. “I had begged him to hide the last biscuit in the Grecian urn in the hallway for me so that I might eat it later in my room—these backboards cause one to be so clumsy that I could not contrive it myself—and I did not care at all that
poor
Miss Mainwaring would go hungry to bed with no biscuit. He was very properly declining to perform such a wrong act.”
    Miss Winthrop, who had little difficulty in thinking the worst of Miss Asquith, was ready to accept this version of events until Miss Asquith added, “And then he suggested, most respectfully, of course, that I should no longer walk in the ways of darkness but seek the light, and lift up my eyes from earthly pleasures. It was
most
edifying. Personally, I think the entire incident speaks very well of Robert, but of course if you believe that propriety is of more importance than the salvation of my eternal soul, Miss Winthrop, why then I have nothing further to argue in his defense.”
    â€œI believe nothing of the sort!” snapped Miss Winthrop.
    â€œOh, Miss!” cried Robert. “I never! That is—Pardon me, I shall try to do better, Miss Winthrop. Forgive me.” And he withdrew to the corner of the room, standing at rigid attention, his face a blank and his inner turmoil only betrayed by the tiny eruptions of hilarity that escaped him from time to time.
    Both Miss Crump and Miss Pffolliott were relieved by the news of the stranger’s sex and age, though neither rested entirely easy. Miss Crump merely supposed that her terrifying governess would arrive in a few days’ time; her ordeal was prolonged, rather than ended. Miss Pffolliott, though at first thankful that she need not immediately fear an importunate suitor appearing at the school (for a mysterious admirer
must
be young, if not positively handsome) became, before long, somewhat annoyed.
    If the stranger at the inn was not her secret lover, then
why
was he not? Her admirer could not be a local man—none was in a position to address her, other than the unappealing Mr. Godalming, and surely
he
was not writing her secret letters! She could not imagine anyone less likely than Mr. Godalming to be involved in a possible tryst.
    Miss Pffolliott knew that the inn possessed very few rooms for the use of travelers. If Miss Crump’s governess and accompanying servant (for it had become general knowledge that Miss le Strange was likely to appear at any moment) were to arrive before her admirer, there would be no rooms left for him.
    It was most tiresome. She became so annoyed with the man’s dilatory behavior that she resolutely shut her mind against him. She found herself able to concentrate on her studies for the first time in weeks, sitting down to a lengthy list of dreaded long division problems with such grim determination that by morning’s end she could point with pride to a much-smudged slate with several completed examples, one of which even had the correct answer.

    One day near the end of