Cecily never meant to eavesdrop, but neither was she
one of those people with a painful attachment to scruples. She liked to know
things, and when people were so obliging as to talk about them in her presence
she had no difficulty in listening. One day, crouched behind the high-backed
chair that stood in the parlor corner, Cecily was distracted from her floor
scrubbing by the sound of shuffling feet and muffled protests from the
direction of the door.
“Really, this is quite
stupid, please, I have work to do, let go.”
“You’ll not get out of my
hands, Alane Callum, until I’ve said my piece.” The parlor door flung open with
a bang, Cecily made the instantaneous decision to duck lower rather than reveal
herself. Muire, whose shrill voice had been chastising her brother, took up a
position by the fireplace, Deidre sat in the window with much snuffling, and
Madam G settled into the very chair Cecily was curled up behind.
The accusations began
immediately. “A commoner, Alane. An absolute commoner. Now I am the last person
to have delusions of wealth and prestige, but we do have our reputation to keep
up, haven’t we? How many people saw you two out there in the garden? Or, mercy,
walking the highways and byways—completely alone—why you disgrace us all!
Really, I think this is the first time in my life I have ever been thoroughly
ashamed of my brother.”
Cecily heard a sob come
from the window. Madam G shifted in her seat and murmured, “Well, my dear boy,
what will you say to that? Your sister has condemned you for lowering yourself,
do you agree with her?”
Alane, who must have been
standing quite near the parlor door, was completely silent for a moment and the
only sounds were Deidre’s snuffles and the hammering of Cecily’s heart. Finally
he said, “You are quite right, Mother, Sisters. I have let my violent feelings
carry me away into an affection my rational mind would never have considered.”
Muire was quick with enthusiastic assent and Deidre blew her nose with relief.
“Nonetheless,” he continued, “I do l—love the girl. She is good and kind and
wise in her own way. She has a great spirit, and I believe that I have given
her reason enough to suspect my attachment so that it is now impossible to
sever ties completely.”
“Nonsense!” “Of course
not!” “My dear….” “The maid has no idea!” “It will pass.”
Cecily gritted her teeth,
hardly knowing what she wanted anyone to say, knowing she was helpless to take
part in a discussion so intimately connected with herself, hardly daring to
breath lest she say something without meaning to. Madam G rose, creaking, from
her chair.
“Alane, my brave and
faithful son, believe me when I tell you that, worthy though our Alyssum may
be, she is not the woman to make your life complete.” There was silence, then a
slight choking sound, and then the confused sound of swishing skirts and feet
and the door closing once or twice.
When she was certainly
alone Cecily emerged, unfolding her limbs from the cramped position, and
returned to cleaning, a bit shaken, but with a sad little smile on her face. He’s no idea. None of them have any idea.
They think I’d snap him up because he’s got a little money and I’ve got
nothing. They think I’d consider marrying him. Poor, simple, interesting
people.
