Carola Dunn Read Online Free

dears,” she said, waving them to the laden sideboard.
    Miranda saw that cold meats, ale, and coffee had joined the usual eggs, muffins, tea, and chocolate. Mr. Daviot piled high his plate.
    As they took their places at the table, Lady Wiston said, “Now, Peter, while you eat, I trust you will tell us what you have been doing all these years since you left to seek your fortune.”
    “Not making my fortune, alas,” he said ruefully, cutting into a thick slice of York ham.
    Miranda had guessed as much. He had slept in the open after going without his dinner, though the inns of the greatest city in the world never closed their doors. His pockets were undoubtedly to let. She suspected he hoped to hang on his aunt’s sleeve.
    He would find Lady Wiston less easy to impose upon than he expected. And if a sentimental attachment to her sister’s son, her only living relative, overbore her capacity to resist undeserving spongers, she had Miranda to protect her.
    “What a pity,” said her ladyship, her sympathy all too obvious. “I daresay it was impossible for an Englishman to grow rich in America while we were fighting the colonists again.”
    “I certainly chose the wrong moment to cross the Atlantic!” he agreed. “Within a month of my arrival, the Yankees declared war. I thought it wisest to make for Canada. Canada, Miss Carmichael, is a name for British North America, which lies to the north of the United States.”
    “I know!” Miranda said indignantly. “I am not absolutely ignorant of geography, in spite of never being taught the use of the globes.”
    “Nor was I,” said Lady Wiston, “and when Sir Bernard tried to explain to me I must confess I utterly failed to comprehend the connection between the celestial and terrestrial globes. I gather they keep moving in relation to each other in the most confusing fashion. As for lines of longitude and latitude—my dear, it seems they are quite imaginary! How they can have assisted him in navigation I cannot think. So you went to Canada, Peter?”
    “Not quite. Before I came to the frontier, I fell in with a band of Iroquois Indians.”
    “Gracious heavens!” his aunt gasped. “My dear boy, how did you escape?”
    “Oh, they didn’t take me prisoner. Most of them fought with the British in the American Revolution, you know. Many fled to Canada, and those who remain in the United States are in general still favourably disposed towards us. They welcomed me and took me to their village, and there I stayed until I heard a few months since that peace was made at last.”
    “That must have been interesting,” said Miranda. In a severe tone, she added, “But when the peace freed you to make your fortune, why did you rush back to England?”
    “I decided my new scheme had a better chance of reaping rich rewards here, because of the larger population, a greater choice of publishers, and any number of wealthy patrons of the arts. You see, if I can only find a patron, I mean to write a thrilling popular account of my life among the Iroquois.”
    “What a splendid notion, dear,” Lady Wiston exclaimed, surrendering without a fight. “You will live here, of course, while you are writing.”
    With a quizzical glance at Miranda which told her he was well aware of her dismayed disapproval, Mr. Daviot smiled and said, “Thank you, Aunt Artemis, I shall be delighted.”
     

Chapter 3
     
    “That is all settled, then,” said Lady Wiston, beaming.
    “I shall move out of my chamber as quickly as I can,” Miranda said resignedly.
    “Good gracious, dear, whatever for?”
    “It is the second best chamber, ma’am. Your nephew—”
    “I shouldn’t dream of dispossessing you, Miss Carmichael,” Mr. Daviot protested. “The blue chamber is perfectly comfortable.”
    “Quite right,” his aunt agreed. “You are all settled, Miranda, and there is not the least occasion to uproot yourself. The Admiral’s study will be perfect for your work, Peter. Miranda, pray order