Mrs. Engels Read Online Free Page B

Mrs. Engels
Book: Mrs. Engels Read Online Free
Author: Gavin McCrea
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limbs makes me think he’s going to put his fist out through the glass. For what reason, it’s beyond me to say.
    â€œIs everything all right with you, Frederick?”
    Slow, he turns round. He doesn’t look at me and heeds only the wringing of his hands. “I am sorry, Lizzie”—he shakes his head in a sorrowful way—“I am sorry that you judge the house only awful grand. You were expecting something more. But this will have to do for now.”
    Alarmed, I open to object. I rise to a stand and reach out an arm, but he raises to halt me.
    â€œIt is already a risk to take a house this size. A bigger one would be a push too far. Besides, I have already given my word on it. It has been signed to us for three and a half years.”
    â€œFrederick, I—”
    â€œJenny and Karl are waiting for our impressions. They, and especially Jenny, have put a great deal of time and effort into finding us this house and making it fit to occupy. So what you are going to do, Lizzie, what I’m telling you to do, is to pretend that you think it more, much more, than awful grand.”
    A rising laugh makes me push my face into my sleeve. As foreigners go, he’s unusual fast at picking things up. His problem—the big noke—is letting go when a thing is long done and over. There’s times he’ll get his whole fist round a delicate article and won’t drop it till he’s wrung all the sense out of it, and he holds it still, even if he knows it’s crushed or broke, or anyhows beyond repair.
    â€œLizzie, are you laughing?”
    Laughter that’s sealed only builds and I think I might burst. I plonk back down on the bed and lift my shirts up to hide my face.
    â€œYa, you are laughing! What is so funny? Stop it! I said, stop it!”
    â€œOh, Frederick,” I says, and it all spills out of me, a peal. “Come here and let me kiss you.”
    He lumbers over, confounded, and sits beside me.
    â€œFrederick,” I says, “the house is much more than grand. It’s an effin’ castle!”
    He frowns and studies my face for any hidden rigs.
    â€œI’m serious! I just adore it!”
    He grins and lets out a sigh and takes tight of me and kisses me. And for a moment now, it almost doesn’t matter that it’s her he really wants to be holding, that it’s her he’d prefer as his princess, for she isn’t here and won’t be coming back, and I’m the closest thing to her he can ever hope to get.
    â€œYou know something?” he says then, tears in his eyes but laughing too. “The Queen was right.”
    â€œThe Queen? About what?”
    â€œAbout the Irish.”
    â€œAnd what, pray tell, did the old hooer say about us?”
    â€œThat you’re an abominable people, none in the world better at causing distress.”

IV. Cross to Bear
    Imprisoned, they have us, in their hospitality. Already here two days longer than planned. It’s my own fault for not being firmer with Frederick. I ought kick up more of a row.
    At first I was worried about getting in the way. I didn’t want to walk in on top of anyone or trespass on their time. But, as it happens, I keep finding myself alone and lost and off the beaten course, in rooms that go into rooms, up and down and every which direction. My heart goes out to Jenny, having to govern such a monster, and I’ve come to admire her practice of going away to rest in case she might be tired later in the day, for I’ve learnt that a mere glance into the parlor is liable to dizzy you, for the depth. It certain can’t be work that drains her. Since our arrival I haven’t caught her doing anything but make work with her queer times. She has a joke: “Better a dry crust and manners at eight than fowl and vulgarity at five,” but in actual fact, she wouldn’t be content with crusts at any hour, and the maid is left bearing the brunt. Boiling up

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