Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 156: what you’re looking at

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148 AGNES; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE. maid answered the summons; but she was desired ings, their style of architecture, and their general to send up the waiter. In a few minutes the waiter made his appearance; and with a bow he expressed a hope that Mr. Hardress felt better. ‘My husband is decidedly better,” said Cicely: then in a whisper to Hector, she added, “ These people are all determined to overwhelm us with their civilities,” “What would you like for dinner, sir?” asked the waiter, shifting his napkin from beneath the right arm to the left, because a hotel-waiter al- ways seems as if he felt himself bound to accom- pany his queries with a business-like gesture. “Ob, I must leave it to my wife!” exclaimed the young patrician. “Settle the matter with Mrs. Hardress.” Cicely forthwith proceeded to order such little delicacies as might appear best calculated to tempt the appetite of the invalid; and the waiter retired to communicate his instructions to the cook. Hee- tor now thought that he was well enough to get up and move fnto the sitting-room, so that he might enjoy his dinner with all the more comfort; and Miss Neale offered no objection to the pro- posal, The young patrician found himself refreshed by his ablutions: the fact of moving about in the room likewise tended to dispel the remnant of gid- diness which he had experienced; and by the time dinner was in readiness to be served up, Hector was also in readiness to partake of it. The apartment where he now rejoined Cicely, was well lighted and handsomely furnished. It was the commencement of November: the weather was exceedingly cold—a magnificent fire blazed in the grate—and the draperies of the windows were closed. The table was neatly laid; and a smoking tureen of soup was soon placed thereon. Hector did justice to it: then followed fish, poultry, game, and sweets in due succession; and Cicely’s patri- cian companion contrived to make an excellent repast. He drank a few glasses of wine: his spirits rose—he was in an excellent humour—and as he contemplated Miss Neale, he thought to him- self that she was a superbly grown young woman, and that he should not at all mind if his present trip with her was extended to a few weeks instead of a few days, so long as she did not ask him to make her his wife in reality. Presently—during the interval between the dessert and the entrance of coffee—Hector, rising from his chair, lounged sowards one of the windows. TFPulling aside the surtains, he looked through the panes into the wide street in which the hotel was situated; and as he contemplated the features of that thorough-. fare by the light of the gas-lamps, he exclaimed, appearance,” continued Hector, “the more do they remind me of the streets in Edinburgh.” “Indeed?” ejaculated Cicely. “Then Edin- burgh must be a very fine city ?” ““Yes—some portions of it,” responded Hard- ress,—“‘ all the new part. But what on earth is that great towering object we behold yonder? I declare that it looks exactly like Edinburgh Castle ?” “Why, that is York Castle, to be sure.” re- joined Cicely. ‘It is a famous building, as I have read in books and have often been told. Come, my dear Hector,” she added, throwing her arm round his neck, “let us return to the cheerful fire; for everything looks so bleak and cold out of doors, that it makes me shudder with a glacial chill.” The young patrician pressed his lips to those of Cicely as her countenance was upturned towards him; and he suffeted her to lead him back to his seat. Coffee was soon afterwards served up; and by the time the fragrant Mocha beverage was dis- cussed it was ten o’clock. Miss Neale suggested that they should retire to rest, for fear that Hector might do himself harm by sitting up too long. He had no objection to withdraw in such companion- ship ; and they accordingly sought their chamber. When they rose in the morning, Hardress found himself perfectly well; and he was in ex- cellent spirits. “ Now, my dear girl,” he said, laughing gaily as they sat down together at the breakfast-table, to which Cicely at once hurried him without giving him time to have a single peep from the window of the sitting-room, “ we must soon think of letting the dear old aunt know that we are at York.” “ Yes, Hector—we can delay it no longer,” re- plied Cicely, “ Oh, I promise you,” she exclaimed, now laughing in her turn, “ we shall have some excellent amusement! But I was thinking how it would flatter the old lady if you yourself were to write her a little note, to be enclosed with mine.” “ And why shouldn’t I?” asked Hector. “ By all means let us keep up the joke! There! I have done eating! You may pour me out another cup of coffee—and I will pen the note while you finish your breakfast.” “Oh! I have also finished,” cried Miss Neale. “Stay! here are writing-materials. What fun it is, to be sure!”—and Cicely laughed so as to dis- play her brilliant teeth. The next moment she spread out an open port- folio on the table before Hector: she arranged “Well, I had not an idea that York was so fine a| a sheet of paper—she dipped the pen in the ink— city !” “Ah! T recollect,’’said Miss Neale, ‘‘you men- tioned, I think, when we were in London, that you had then never been to York ?” ‘‘ Never,” answered Hector : “ this is the first time. Whereabouts is the Cathedral ?”’ ‘Somewhere in that direction,’ rejoined Cicely, who was now standing by his side at the window. *“ And where may your delectable old aunt live ?” inquired Hector, with a gay laugh. *“T only know the name of the street,” re- sponded Cicely : ‘‘ but I am ignorant of its where- abouts. This is likewise my first visit to York.” ‘‘The longer I contemplate these lofty build- ee and she placed it in his hand, at the same time bending down and imprinting a caress upon his forehead. ‘Now you must dictate to me what I am to say,” exclaimed Hector. ‘‘ We will of course begin by putting ‘York, November the third’ ”? ‘* No, no! never mind that now!’’ interrupted Cicely Neale: ‘‘let us make haste! Come, begin with ‘ My dear Madam.’ ”’ “‘ Very well!’’ said Hector, laughing : “* have it your own way! And now proceed.” Cicely accordingly dictated the letter which Hector wrote: but both dictation and writing were frequently interrupted by merry peals of an ee COMMNcocol<s