DOI Artikel:
Radford, Ada: Lucy Wren
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.25499#0278
274 Lucy Wren
unfinished work, and sitting in the horsehair easy chair, leant
back, a volume of Browning in her hand.
When at last Lucy looked up, Katharine spoke at once.
u It’s a glorious love poem,” she said ; her eyes shone, and the
schoolmistress had disappeared. “ Shall I read it to you ? ”
To listen to a glorious love poem read by Katharine, at any
time required the same kind of composure as the dentist’s chair,
but to-night had she proposed to let loose the specimens of
animal life she kept in bottles and boxes, all over the room, Lucy
would have given the same involuntary shudder.
“My head aches so, I must go to bed; good night,” she said
firmly, and leaving her half-finished books on the table, she left
the room, with what for her were rapid movements.
“ Good night,” said Katharine, and buried herself again in her
book.
* * # # *
“I know you’ll be very angry,” said Katharine the next
afternoon, as Lucy stood in her hat and cloak ready to go out, “ but
I never can understand your friendship with that little Mrs.
Dawson. She doesn’t seem to me to have a thing in her.”
Lucy smiled.
“ And you frighten the very little she has out of her ; but I—
well, I like to go and hear about things outside the school.”
“But it’s all gossip, isn’t it ?”
“Yes, it’s all gossip.”
“ How funny of you, Lucy. What kind of man is her
husband ? ”
“We never get more than a few words together,” said Lucy.
Then she added. “ He looks unhappy.”
It was gossip, and yet Lucy listened. Ella (Mrs. Dawson’s name
was Ella) always apologised. “ I know these things don’t interest
you,”
unfinished work, and sitting in the horsehair easy chair, leant
back, a volume of Browning in her hand.
When at last Lucy looked up, Katharine spoke at once.
u It’s a glorious love poem,” she said ; her eyes shone, and the
schoolmistress had disappeared. “ Shall I read it to you ? ”
To listen to a glorious love poem read by Katharine, at any
time required the same kind of composure as the dentist’s chair,
but to-night had she proposed to let loose the specimens of
animal life she kept in bottles and boxes, all over the room, Lucy
would have given the same involuntary shudder.
“My head aches so, I must go to bed; good night,” she said
firmly, and leaving her half-finished books on the table, she left
the room, with what for her were rapid movements.
“ Good night,” said Katharine, and buried herself again in her
book.
* * # # *
“I know you’ll be very angry,” said Katharine the next
afternoon, as Lucy stood in her hat and cloak ready to go out, “ but
I never can understand your friendship with that little Mrs.
Dawson. She doesn’t seem to me to have a thing in her.”
Lucy smiled.
“ And you frighten the very little she has out of her ; but I—
well, I like to go and hear about things outside the school.”
“But it’s all gossip, isn’t it ?”
“Yes, it’s all gossip.”
“ How funny of you, Lucy. What kind of man is her
husband ? ”
“We never get more than a few words together,” said Lucy.
Then she added. “ He looks unhappy.”
It was gossip, and yet Lucy listened. Ella (Mrs. Dawson’s name
was Ella) always apologised. “ I know these things don’t interest
you,”