A Counterfeit Presentment; and, The Parlour CarHowells, William Dean
General
A Counterfeit Presentment; and, The Parlour Car
Howells, William Dean
American drama -- 19th century; Man-woman relationships -- Drama
_Miss G._, very sternly at first, with a rising hysterical
inflection.--"Nothing, Allen! Do you call it _nothing_, to have Mrs.
Dawes come out with all that about your accident on your way up the
river, and ask me if it didn't frighten me terribly to hear of it, even
after it was all over; and I had to say you hadn't told me a word of it?
'Why, Lucy!'"--angrily mimicking Mrs. Dawes--"'you must teach him better
than that. I make Mr. Dawes tell _me_ everything.' Little simpleton! And
then to have them all laugh--oh dear, it's too much!"
_Mr. R._--"Why, my dear Lucy--"
_Miss G._, interrupting him.--"I saw just how it was going to be, and
I'm thankful, _thankful_ that it happened. I saw that you didn't care
enough for me to take me into your whole life; that you despised and
distrusted me, and that it would get worse and worse to the end of our
days; that we should grow further and further apart, and I should be
left moping at home, while you ran about making confidantes of other
women whom you considered _worthy_ of your confidence. It all _flashed_
upon me in an _instant_; and I resolved to break with you, then and
there; and I did, just as soon as ever I could go to my room for your
things, and I'm glad,--yes,--O hu, hu, hu, hu, hu!--_so_ glad I did it!"
_Mr. R._, grimly.--"Your joy is obvious. May I ask--"
_Miss G._--"Oh, it wasn't the _first_ proof you had given me how little
you really cared for me, but I was determined it should be the last. I
dare say you've forgotten them! I dare say you don't remember telling
Mamie Morris that you didn't like crocheted cigar-cases, when you'd just
_told_ me that you did, and let me be such a fool as to commence one for
you; but I'm thankful to say _that_ went into the fire,--O yes,
_instantly_! And I dare say you've forgotten that you didn't tell me
your brother's engagement was to be kept, and let me come out with it
that night at the Rudges' and then looked perfectly aghast, so that
everybody thought I had been blabbing! Time and again, Allen, you have
made me suffer agonies, yes, _agonies_; but your power to do so is at an
end. I am free and happy at last." She weeps bitterly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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