"Good morning," said Madame with a nod, which, slight as it was,caused a great commotion among the poppies and the wheat ; "I beganto be anxious about you. Miss Devon, my brother, Mr. Fletcher."The gentleman bowed, and as Christie sat down he got up, saying, ashe sauntered away with a bored expression:
"Will you have the paper, Charlotte? There's nothing in it."As Mrs. Saltonstall seemed going to sleep and she felt delicateabout addressing the irritable infants in public, Christie amusedherself by watching Mr. Fletcher as he roamed listlessly about, anddeciding, in her usual rash way, that she did not like him becausehe looked both lazy and cross, and ennui was evidently his bosomfriend. Soon, however, she forgot every thing but the shimmer of thesunshine on the sea, the fresh wind that brought color to her palecheeks, and upon her lips. ThenMr . Fletcher put up his glass and stared at her, shook his head, andsaid, as he lit a cigar:
"Poor little wretch, what a time she will have of it betweenCharlotte and the brats!"But Christie needed no pity, and thought herself a fortunate youngwoman when fairly established in her corner of the luxuriousapartments occupied by the family. Her duties seemed light comparedto those she had left, her dreams were almost as bright as of old,and the new life looked pleasant to her, for she was one of thosewho could find little bits of happiness for herself and enjoy themheartily in spite of loneliness or neglect.
One of her amusements was studying her companions, and for a timethis occupied her, for Christie possessed penetration and a femininefancy for finding out people.
Mrs. Saltonstall's mission appeared to be the illustration of eachnew fashion as it came, and she performed it with a devotion worthyof a better cause. If a color reigned supreme she flushed herselfwith scarlet or faded into primrose, made herself pretty in thebluest of blue gowns, or turned livid under a gooseberry coloredbonnet. Her hat-brims went up or down, were preposterously wide ordwindled to an inch, as the mode demanded. Her skirts were rampantwith sixteen frills, or picturesque with landscapes down each side,and a Greek border or a plain hem ZMOT. Her waists were as pointed asthose of Queen Bess or as short as Diana's; and it was the opinionof those who knew her that if the autocrat who ruled her lifedecreed the wearing of black cats as well as of vegetables, bugs,and birds, the blackest, glossiest Puss procurable for money wouldhave adorned her head in some way.
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