Silverbeach Manor Read Online Free PDF Page B

costly
furs represent nothing like the love which baked the loaf and
ground the coffee, and searched for that new laid egg for Pansy's
last breakfast in Polesheaton.
    "Well, I must
be going," says the girl, trying to speak briskly. "Take care of my
chickens, Deb, and Auntie darling, I know you will give my canary
his Sunday groundsel. I will make both your fortunes yet -- see if
I do not. Goodbye, Deb. Be a good girl and take care of Aunt
Temperance. Goodbye, dear, dear Auntie. I never will forget you. I
never will love you less, wherever I am."
    "Goodbye, my
little Pansy -- God bless and keep my child!" says Miss Piper as
she folds the girl in a trembling embrace.
    Pansy rather
wonders that her aunt can keep from crying -- her own tears are
flowing like rain. The next moment somebody requiring stamps knocks
hurriedly on the counter and Temperance Piper goes into the shop,
while Pansy Piper leaves the place by way of the garden and enters
The Grange as Pansy Adair.
    "A very good
fit," says Mrs. Adair, approvingly surveying the drab costume. "You
have a very tolerable figure, Pansy, and a few lessons in
deportment will do wonders for you. It is not nearly time to start
for Firlands yet. You are earlier than I expected, but you can help
me pack the evening dresses. My maid is dreadfully tiresome about
getting neuralgia at most inconvenient times. She is fit for
nothing today. Why, what on earth are you crying about, child?"
    "I don't
like leaving Aunt Temperance," says Pansy. "She looks so poorly and
so low-spirited. You will let me write to
her now and then -- once a week at least, won't you, dear Mrs.
Adair?"
    "Come,
child, do not be babyish," says Mrs. Adair impatiently. "We have gone over this matter again and again.
It is even now not too late for you to change your mind. I am
perfectly willing to drive away without you, and leave you to an
existence in Polesheaton, if you think it preferable to a change of
fortune."
    "Oh no! I'm
more grateful to you than I can say," answers Pansy in a stifled
voice.
    "Well, then,
pray put that wet handkerchief away and bathe your eyes, and look
respectable when Mr. Langdale presently rides in to be our escort
to Firlands station. I detest red eyes, child. My nerves are really
in too low a state to stand a repetition of such a scene. There is
not a girl in Polesheaton who does not envy you today and long to
be in your place. Remember that, Pansy."
    The mention of
Cyril Langdale gives a new turn to Pansy's thoughts, and having
bathed her eyes she fastens a bunch of yellow chrysanthemums in her
travelling coat, and soon cheers up in rapture over Mrs. Adair's
evening dresses.
    By and by
Langdale arrives on horseback, looking, thinks Pansy, more
aristocratic than ever. Then the carriage and pair draws up before
The Grange, and quite a crowd has gathered to see the last of the
London lady and to witness the departure of Miss Piper's niece.
Neither her aunt nor Deb is there, being busy at letter sorting
just then; but Ellen and Martha Sotham from the farm are smiling
and nodding on the pavement, and the young girl at the shoe shop is
waving kisses affectionately.
    A group of old
men and women discuss Pansy's appearance and speak out in
wonderment, "To think of that, now! Don't she look like the
Princess Royal in them fine new clothes, and a silk umbrella,
a-sitting up in a carriage and pair along with the quality!"
    Neither Mrs.
Adair nor Cyril Langdale appears to hear these remarks, but Pansy's
cheeks are burning and she suspects the coachman and footman of
hidden amusement. She is thankful when the fingerpost pointing to
Polesheaton is left behind, and Mrs. Adair takes her hand
caressingly, saying, "Now, Pansy, you have left those dreadful,
backward people behind for ever. You are my charge now, and if you
please and satisfy me, a golden future lies before you."
    Pansy notices
that Mr. Langdale addresses her henceforth as "Miss Adair." The
title seems strange and unfamiliar for a time, but soon