The Evil Genius: A Domestic Story — page 74: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THK EVIL GENTUS. &2 sincere compliment, no doubt. It comes in very neatly and nicely,” Mrs, Presty acknowledged, ‘* after my son-in-law’s little outbreak of temper. My poor Herbert, when will you under- stand that I mean no harm? Iam an essentially humorous person; my wonderful spirits are always carrying meaway. Il do assure you, Miss Westerfield, | don’t know what worry is. My troubles—deaths in the family, and that sort of thing—seem to slip off me in a most remarkable manner. Poor Mr. Ormond used to attribute it to my excellent appetite. Or, no; I think he said my excellent digestion. ‘* My second husband would never hear of such an explanation es that. His highideal of women shrank from allusions to stom- achs. He used to speak so nicelv (quoting some poet) of the sunshine of my breast. Vague perhaps,” said Mrs. Presty, look- ing down at the ample prospect of a personal nature which pre- sented itself below her throat, ‘‘ but so flattering to one’s feel- ings. There’s the luncheon-bell again, I declare! TIl run on before and tell them you are coming. Some people might say they wished to be punctual. lam truth itself, and lown 1 don’t like being helped to the under side of the fish. Au revoir! Do you remember, Miss Westerfield, when I asked you to repeat ‘au revoir’ as a specimen of your French? I didn’t think much of your accent. Oh, dear me, I didn’t think much of your ac- cent.” Kitty looked after her fluent grandmother with eves that stared respectfully inignorantadmiration. She pulled her father’s coat-tail, and addressed herself gravely to his private ear. ‘‘Oh, papa, what noble words grandmamma has!” CHAPTER XI. LINLEY ASSERTS HIS AUTHORITY. ON the evening of Monday in the new week, the last of the visitors had left Mount Morven. Mrs. Linley dropped into a chair (in what Randal called ‘‘ the heavenly tranquillity of the deserted drawing-room”), and owned that the effort of enter- taining her guests had completely worn her out. ‘‘ It’s too ab- surd, at my time of life,” she said with a faint smile, ‘* but lam really and truly so tired that 1 must go to bed before dark, as if i was a child again.” Mrs. Presty—maliciously observant of the governess, sitting silent and apart in a corner—approached her daughter in a hurry; to all appearance with a special object in view. Linley was at no loss to guess what the object might be. ‘‘ Will you do me a favor, Catherine?” Mrs. Presty began. ‘‘I wish to say a word to you in your own room.” ‘*Uh, mamma, have some mercy on me, and put it off till to- morrow!” Mrs. Presty reluctantly consented to this proposal, on one con- dition. ‘‘ It is understood,” she stipulated, ‘‘ that 1am to see vou the first thing in the morning ?” Mrs. Linley was ready to accept that condition, or any condi- tion which promised her a night of uninterrupted repose. She COMIC OO® S (E() im