Belle (The Daughters of Allamont Hall Book 2) by Mary Kingswood Read Free Book Online

shelter of my umbrella.”
    “I am very much obliged to you, sir, for otherwise I might have waited here for some time in the hope of an improvement. I am to meet Miss Bellows at Miss Featherstone’s circulating library.”
    “Oh, that is excellent,” he said, “for I am bound there myself. Will you take my arm, Miss Allamont, and I will hold the umbrella at an angle, just so. There, that will keep off the worst of it.”
    “Are you often in Brinchester, Mr Burford?”
    “Once a week, when Sir Matthew and Lady Graham pass through on their way to visit Lady Graham’s sister. They are so kind as to offer me a seat in their carriage. I am able to execute small commissions for Mr and Miss Endercott, and to visit the library. Well, mostly the library, I confess. Have you been a subscriber long?”
    “I have not yet subscribed. This is my first visit to Brinchester for a year, so I have had no opportunity to do so.”
    “I am sure you will find many volumes of interest, both novels and other works. Do you enjoy novels, Miss Allamont?”
    “I do not know, sir, for I have never yet read one, although I should very much like to.”
    He stopped abruptly, and she was obliged to stop also, in order to stay beneath the umbrella.
    “Never read a novel? Oh, Miss Allamont, what delights you have to look forward to!” His enthusiasm started them walking again. “The pleasure of a new Mary Brunton or Frances Burney! A Henrietta Sykes or Ann Radcliffe.” He rattled on in this vein for some time. “Ah, and  Maria Edgeworth! I must tell you, Miss Allamont, that Castle Rackrent was a most moving piece of writing. I should be greatly interested in your opinion of it.”
    “You intrigue me. I shall look out for it especially.”
    “And Belinda — I am still awaiting that one, for it is a popular work, and I have not yet been able to obtain it. But perhaps you prefer the older style of writing — Jonathan Swift, perhaps, or Daniel Defoe?”
    “I cannot say.”
    “Oh, but naturally you cannot. How foolish of me. You know nothing of either variety. I am surprised your father had nothing of the sort in his library, but perhaps he was of the opinion that novels are unsuitable reading? There are many who feel that way. For myself, I like a good sermon as much as any man, but there is a place also for— Oh!”
    They stopped again. “What is the matter?” Belle said.
    “Why, look, we are at Barker’s already. I have been so inattentive that I have led you straight past the library, and kept you out in all this rain when you might have been snug and dry these five minutes past.”
    “It is of no consequence, Mr Burford. You have kept me so well entertained that I did not regard the rain at all.”
    “You are too kind. Let us turn back and try again, shall we?”
    ~~~~~
    There was nothing in the world, Belle decided, quite so satisfactory as a day in town, and particularly one without her mama’s disapproving gaze. Mama rarely criticised directly, but a raised eyebrow or a certain set of the shoulders was more than adequate to convey her displeasure. Furthermore, there was no idling away the hours with Lady Sara. She always went directly to the required establishment, transacted her business and that was the end of it.
    Without such constraint, Belle had spent an hour or more in Miss Featherstone’s splendid library, with the enthusiastic assistance of Mr Burford. The business of subscribing, and then the choosing of books — all was made easy by his guidance. And then they had all gone to the White Rose Hotel for some refreshments, and Mr Burford had entertained the two ladies by reading verses of poetry aloud, in such a striking manner that he had attracted quite a crowd. He had a wonderful speaking voice, perfect for his profession.
    And now the carriage was making its ponderous way homeward, with a delightfully large bundle of books on the forward seat, a vast sum of money in her reticule and Miss Bellows asleep in the