Cloudy Jewel

Livingston Hill Grace

Description

A spinster by the standards of her era, Julia Cloud has agreed to spend the rest of her days engaged in domestic servitude in the household of her sister. Resigned to a lifetime of loneliness, she's all the more surprised when an unlikely attraction begins to blossom. Cloudy Jewel is a treat for fans of uplifting historical romance.

Sujets

• Romance

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 février 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776532773
• Langue: English

Extrait

CLOUDY JEWEL
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GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL
 
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Cloudy Jewel First published in 1920 Epub ISBN 978-1-77653-277-3 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77653-278-0 © 2013 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII Chapter XIII Chapter XIV Chapter XV Chapter XVI Chapter XVII Chapter XVIII Chapter XIX Chapter XX Chapter XXI Chapter XXII Chapter XXIII Chapter XXIV Chapter XXV Chapter XXVI Chapter XXVII Chapter XXVIII Chapter XXIX Chapter XXX
Chapter I
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"Well, all I've got to say, then, is, you're a very foolish woman!"
Ellen Robinson buttoned her long cloak forcefully, and arose with ahaughty air from the rocking-chair where she had pointed her remarksfor the last half-hour by swaying noisily back and forth and touchingthe toes of her new high-heeled shoes with a click each time to thefloor.
Julia Cloud said nothing. She stood at the front window, looking outacross the sodden lawn to the road and the gray sky in the distance.She did not turn around to face her arrogant sister.
"What I'd like to know is what you do propose to do, then, if youdon't accept our offer and come to live with us? Were you expecting tokeep on living in this great barn of a house?" Ellen Robinson's voicewas loud and strident with a crude kind of pain. She could notunderstand her sister, in fact, never had. She had thought herproposition that Julia come to live in her home and earn her board bylooking after the four children and being useful about the house wasmost generous. She had admired the open-handedness of Herbert, herhusband, for suggesting it. Some husbands wouldn't have wanted a poorrelative about. Of course Julia always had been a hard worker; and itwould relieve Ellen, and make it possible for her to go around withher husband more. It would save the wages of a servant, too, for Juliahad always been a wonder at economy. It certainly was vexing to haveJulia act in this way, calmly putting aside the proposition as if itwere nothing and saying she hadn't decided what she was going to doyet, for all the world as if she were a millionaire!
"I don't know, Ellen. I haven't had time to think. There have been somany things to think about since the funeral I haven't got used yet tothe idea that mother's really gone." Julia's voice was quiet andcontrolled, in sharp contrast with Ellen's high-pitched, nervoustones.
"That's it!" snapped Ellen. "When you do, you'll go all to pieces,staying here alone in this great barn. That's why I want you to decidenow. I think you ought to lock up and come home with me to-night. I'vespent just as much time away from home as I can spare the last threeweeks, and I've got to get back to my house. I can't stay with you anymore."
"Of course not, Ellen. I quite understand that," said Julia, turningaround pleasantly. "I hadn't expected you to stay. It isn't in theleast necessary. You know I'm not at all afraid."
"But it isn't decent to leave you here alone, when you've got folksthat can take care of you. What will people think? It places us in anawfully awkward position."
"They will simply think that I have chosen to remain in my own house,Ellen. I don't see anything strange or indecent about that."
Julia Cloud had turned about, and was facing her sister calmly now.Her quiet voice seemed to irritate Ellen.
"What nonsense!" she said sharply. "How exceedingly childish, lettingyourself be ruled by whims, when common sense must show you that youare wrong. I wonder if you aren't ever going to be a woman ."
Ellen said this word "woman" as if her sister had already passed intothe antique class and ought to realize it. It was one of the thingsthat hurt Julia Cloud to realize that she was growing old apparentlywithout the dignity that belonged to her years, for they all talked toher yet as if she were a little child and needed to be managed. Sheopened her lips to speak, but thought better of it, and shut themagain, turning back to the window and the gray, sodden landscape.
"Well, as I said before, you're a very foolish woman; and you'll soonfind it out. I shall have to go and leave you to the consequences ofyour folly. I'm sure I don't know what Herbert will say when he findsout how you've scorned his kindness. It isn't every brother-in-lawwould offer—yes, offer , Julia, for I never even suggested it—totake on extra expense in his family. But you won't see youringratitude if I stand here and talk till doomsday; so I'm going backto my children. If you come to your senses, you can ride out withBoyce Bains to-morrow afternoon. Good-by, and I'm sure I hope youwon't regret this all your life."
Julia walked to the door with her sister, and stood watching hersadly while she climbed into her smart little Ford and skillfullysteered it out of the yard and down the road. The very set of hershoulders as she sailed away toward home was disapproving.
With a sigh of relief Julia Cloud shut the door and went back to herwindow and the dreary landscape. It was time for a sunset, but the skywas leaden. There Would be nothing but grayness to look at, graynessin front of her, grayness behind in the dim, silent room. It was likeher life, her long, gray life, behind and ahead. All her life she hadhad to serve, and see others happy. First as a child, the oldestchild. There had been the other children, three brothers and Ellen.She had brought them all up, as it were, for the mother had alwaysbeen delicate and ailing. She had washed their faces, kissed theirbruises, and taken them to school. She had watched their love-affairsand sent them out into the world one by one. Two of the brothers hadcome home to die, and she had nursed them through long months. Thethird brother married a wealthy girl in California, and never camehome again except on flying visits. He was dead now, too, killed inaction in France during the first year of the Great War. Then herfather had been thrown from his horse and killed; and she had bornethe burden for her mother, settled up the estate, and made both endsmeet somehow, taking upon herself the burden of the mother, now achronic invalid. From time to time her young nieces and nephews hadbeen thrust upon her to care for in some home stress, and always shehad done her duty by them all through long days of mischief and longnights of illness. She had done it cheerfully and patiently, and hadnever complained even to herself. Always there had been so much to bedone that there had been no time to think how the years were going by,her youth passing from her forever without even a glimpse of therose-color that she supposed was meant to come into every life for atleast a little while.
She hadn't realized it fully, she had been so busy. But now, with thelast service over, an empty house about her, an empty heart withinher, she was looking with startled eyes into the future and facingfacts.
It was Ellen's attempt to saddle her with a new responsibility and fither out to drudge on to the end of her days that had suddenly broughtthe whole thing out in its true light. She was tired. Too tired tobegin all over again and raise those children for Ellen. They werenice, healthy children and well behaved; but they were Ellen'schildren, and always would be. If she went out to live with theRobinsons, she would be Ellen's handmaid, at her beck and call, alwaysfeeling that she must do whatever she was asked, whether she was ableor not, because she was a dependent. Never anything for love. Oh,Ellen loved her in a way, of course, and she loved Ellen; but they hadnever understood each other, and Ellen's children had been brought upto laugh and joke at her expense as if she were somehow mentallylacking.
"O Aunt Ju lia!" they would say in a tone of pity and scorn, as ifshe were too ignorant to understand even their sneers.
Perhaps it was pride, but Julia Cloud felt she would rather diethan face a future like that. It was respectable, of course, andentirely reliable. She would be fed and clothed, and nursed whenshe was ill. She would be buried respectably when she died, and theneighbors would say the Robinsons had been kind and done the rightthing by her; but Julia Cloud shuddered as she looked down the long,dull vista of that future which was offered her, and drew back forthe first time in her life. Not that she had anything better in view,only that she shrank from taking the step that would bring inevitableand irrevocable grayness to the end of her days. She was not abovecooking and nursing and toiling forever if there were independence tobe had. She would have given her life if love beckoned her. She wouldhave gone to France as a nurse in a moment if she had not been neededat her mother's bedside. Little children drew her powerfully, butto be a drudge for children who did not love her, in a home wherelove was the only condition that would make dependence possible,looked intolerable.
Julia Cloud had loved everybody that would let her, and had receivedvery little love in return. Back in the years when she was twelve andwent to school a boy of fifteen or sixteen had been her comrade andcompanion. They had played together whenever Julia had time to play,and had roamed the woods and waded the creeks in company. Then hispeople moved away, and he had kissed her good-by and told her thatsome day he was coming back to get her. It was a childish affection,but i