The Admiral's Daughter Read Online Free Page A

should have had friends there these many years. But I shan’t leave you in suspense, my dear. Theinvitation is from your cousin, the Viscount Ramblay, who very kindly requests your company for the whole winter.”
    â€œNot the Lord Ramblay you detest, Papa?” cried Maggie in amazement. “I thought you would never speak to him again!”
    â€œAnd so I should not have, only this is not the old curmudgeon, but his son.”
    And then the Admiral recounted the whole story of the correspondence, only changing, for Maggie’s benefit, the date of the first letter, which, out of desire to conceal his own vanity, he reported as having come a few weeks before and inspiring his own reply. Maggie was all astonishment at the news of the reconciliation, and happy admiration of the son who would bridge the gap initiated by his father. She would not rest until she had seen what sort of letter he had written, and the Admiral, having only the second to give her, and that one so cold, endeavored to put her off. But Maggie would have her way, and in the end the Admiral was forced to hand his correspondence over.
    The letter was read at one glance, and then read over with greater care. On finishing it, Maggie said nothing, but her father exclaimed:
    â€œIs not it an admirable piece of work? I never knew such a fine letter!”
    â€œTo be sure the hand is very good,” replied Maggie with some restraint, “and the paper is the best parchment.”
    â€œBut the invitation!” cried her father impatiently, “is not it generous?”
    Maggie did not respond to the question, but asked one of her own: “I suppose you wrote him a long letter, and were very open?”
    Astonished, the Admiral replied his letter had been as long as it ought, and that he had been as open as possible, considering the circumstances.
    â€œJust so,” thought Maggie. “Papa has written one of his long letters, begging my cousin to introduce me to Society. And in response, he has got this: a short, cold, civil piece of writing, sent more from duty than desire. Lord Ramblay does not want me for the winter, he only wants to assuage his guilt. He would be delighted if the invitation were refused, which he cannot hope it will be.”
    But to her father, she said: “Do not you think the tone a little cold, Papa? If I was my cousin and wished to healsuch a breach as existed between you and his father, I should be a little more warm in my solicitations.”
    â€œOh!” cried the Admiral, “It is only his way. His first letter was in the same style, though much longer. He is one of your noble young what-d’you-callums—I suppose he would behave the same, no matter what. But the invitation, my dear! What do you say? Is not it a grand one?”
    Maggie knew her father very well, and from long observation of him, she could detect what was in his mind no matter how he endeavored to conceal it. She saw now that it was his dearest wish that she should go to Essex, and then to London, but a vague unease prevented her desiring the visit herself. To go to London for the winter was indeed a happy thought! To spend the time in the company of friends, who loved her company and longed to see her, would have been her greatest delight. Who could think otherwise? So much entertainment, so many new faces, such an altogether delightful prospect! But to go, only to be a burden to people who did not want her and had only asked her out of a sense of what they ought to do, rather than what they wished —what a different kind of prospect!
    â€œI had rather not go, Papa,” she murmured.
    â€œWhat! Not go to Town with Lord Ramblay? But of course you must go! I will not hear of your not going! What! Refuse such an invitation!”
    Maggie saw that she was beaten, even before she had begun to struggle. Torn equally between a desire to please her father and a deeper loyalty to him and his long-standing