Read Online Miss Farrow's Feathers by Susan Gee Heino - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan Gee Heino
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things were not very likely to go as expected. After all, he intended to interrupt them.
Meg absently tapped the table and glanced —for the hundredth time—at the clock. Was it her imagination, or was dinner taking interminably long tonight? And could Papa possibly chew any slower? Heavens, but she was becoming more and more agitated every minute. Surely Mr. Perkins was going to give up on her, to think she was not coming.
And of course she really shouldn't go. Indeed, anything that required her to lie to Papa could surely not be a proper thing to do. Then again, it would certainly not be proper if these papers Mr. Perkins mentioned were to turn up in the wrong hands, their horrible accusations and assumptions coming into public knowledge! No indeed, that would not be proper at all , either.
She had no choice but to slink over there and help Mr. Perkins look for them. She simply had to find them, or at least be convinced they'd been destroyed years ago. It was wrong to lie and to go sneaking around, of course, but she comforted herself with the knowledge it was for a worthy cause. It would protect Papa, of course.
"You've hardly eaten, my dear," he said from his place at the head of the table.
She started. "What? Oh, but I find I'm not terribly hungry, Papa."
"Perhaps this meal is not to your liking," Mr. Shirley suggested. "Could it be you have an appetite for something else?"
"No, of course not. It's just... I have recalled that I had promised to look in on Miss Bent today. You know Miss Bent, Papa. She's been ill, the poor thing. She's really quite elderly now and her niece has had to go into Town for a time. We know times are tough for them and I do worry so. I feel simply awful that I've not been to see them and after I had promised and all... so perhaps I should go over there now. Yes, I should, don't you think? Of course you do. You always tell me to do what is right, Papa, and I did make a promise..."
Mr. Shirley was watching her intently. What was that look in his eye? Condemnation . It was almost as if he could detect that that she lied! Could he? No, surely not. How could he? She was merely imagining things. He wasn't condemning her at all. He was smiling, in fact.
"It's refreshing to hear a young lady so dedicated to good work, Miss Farrow," he said. " Too often young ladies seem to care only for fripple and finery and beaux. How pleasant to see you are nothing at all like those pretty packages with nothing inside them but cotton."
"Thank you, sir," she said, but wasn't quite sure that he merited it. Had that been a compliment? She wasn't at all certain.
"You want to go visiting now?" Papa asked. "But it will be dark in two hours."
Oh, bother. She was going to have to elaborate on her lies to convince Papa. Drat. How she hated that! But what other option did she have?
"Perhaps I could accompany you?" Mr. Shirley offered unexpectedly. He smiled again at her, then turned his attention to Papa. "That is, if you think such a thing might be appropriate, sir. I agree that it is not wise for Miss Farrow to be out on her own as evening wears on, but she did give her word to this Miss Bent, and the poor old woman must need visiting. I could surely see that Miss Farrow is safe on her errand of mercy."
Good heavens, this was the last thing she needed! But surely Papa would never allow it. To send her off alone with Mr. Shirley would be even more inappropriate than allowing her out on her own, of course. No doubt she could trust Papa to be sensible about this, at least.
But Papa's sense of propriety failed her.
"You would do that, Mr. Shirley? How very considerate of you," he gushed.
"It is the least I could do, sir, after you and Miss Farrow have been so gracious toward me."
"But Mr. Shirley," she protested, hoping she didn't sound quite as desperate as she felt. "As Papa noted, it's getting on toward dark, and I'm afraid you don't know it, but Miss Bent lives almost a mile out of town. It's nearly as
Meg absently tapped the table and glanced —for the hundredth time—at the clock. Was it her imagination, or was dinner taking interminably long tonight? And could Papa possibly chew any slower? Heavens, but she was becoming more and more agitated every minute. Surely Mr. Perkins was going to give up on her, to think she was not coming.
And of course she really shouldn't go. Indeed, anything that required her to lie to Papa could surely not be a proper thing to do. Then again, it would certainly not be proper if these papers Mr. Perkins mentioned were to turn up in the wrong hands, their horrible accusations and assumptions coming into public knowledge! No indeed, that would not be proper at all , either.
She had no choice but to slink over there and help Mr. Perkins look for them. She simply had to find them, or at least be convinced they'd been destroyed years ago. It was wrong to lie and to go sneaking around, of course, but she comforted herself with the knowledge it was for a worthy cause. It would protect Papa, of course.
"You've hardly eaten, my dear," he said from his place at the head of the table.
She started. "What? Oh, but I find I'm not terribly hungry, Papa."
"Perhaps this meal is not to your liking," Mr. Shirley suggested. "Could it be you have an appetite for something else?"
"No, of course not. It's just... I have recalled that I had promised to look in on Miss Bent today. You know Miss Bent, Papa. She's been ill, the poor thing. She's really quite elderly now and her niece has had to go into Town for a time. We know times are tough for them and I do worry so. I feel simply awful that I've not been to see them and after I had promised and all... so perhaps I should go over there now. Yes, I should, don't you think? Of course you do. You always tell me to do what is right, Papa, and I did make a promise..."
Mr. Shirley was watching her intently. What was that look in his eye? Condemnation . It was almost as if he could detect that that she lied! Could he? No, surely not. How could he? She was merely imagining things. He wasn't condemning her at all. He was smiling, in fact.
"It's refreshing to hear a young lady so dedicated to good work, Miss Farrow," he said. " Too often young ladies seem to care only for fripple and finery and beaux. How pleasant to see you are nothing at all like those pretty packages with nothing inside them but cotton."
"Thank you, sir," she said, but wasn't quite sure that he merited it. Had that been a compliment? She wasn't at all certain.
"You want to go visiting now?" Papa asked. "But it will be dark in two hours."
Oh, bother. She was going to have to elaborate on her lies to convince Papa. Drat. How she hated that! But what other option did she have?
"Perhaps I could accompany you?" Mr. Shirley offered unexpectedly. He smiled again at her, then turned his attention to Papa. "That is, if you think such a thing might be appropriate, sir. I agree that it is not wise for Miss Farrow to be out on her own as evening wears on, but she did give her word to this Miss Bent, and the poor old woman must need visiting. I could surely see that Miss Farrow is safe on her errand of mercy."
Good heavens, this was the last thing she needed! But surely Papa would never allow it. To send her off alone with Mr. Shirley would be even more inappropriate than allowing her out on her own, of course. No doubt she could trust Papa to be sensible about this, at least.
But Papa's sense of propriety failed her.
"You would do that, Mr. Shirley? How very considerate of you," he gushed.
"It is the least I could do, sir, after you and Miss Farrow have been so gracious toward me."
"But Mr. Shirley," she protested, hoping she didn't sound quite as desperate as she felt. "As Papa noted, it's getting on toward dark, and I'm afraid you don't know it, but Miss Bent lives almost a mile out of town. It's nearly as
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