A House Divided Against Itself; vol. 2 of 3Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
A House Divided Against Itself; vol. 2 of 3
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Fiction
deal in stocks, and kept her eyes on the money market. The girl sat and
watched her with a sort of fascination as her pen ran lightly over sheet
after sheet. Sometimes Lady Markham was full of tenderness and
generosity, and had the look of understanding everybody’s feelings. She
was never unkind. She never took a bad view of any one, or suggested
evil or interested motives, as even Frances perceived, in her limited
experience, so many people to do. But, on the other hand, there would
come into her face sometimes a look--which seemed to say that she might
be inexorable, if once she had made up her mind: a look before which it
seemed to Frances that flight like that of Constance would be the
easiest way. Frances was not sufficiently instructed in human nature to
know that anomalies of this kind are common enough; and that nobody is
always and in all matters good, any more than anybody is in all things
ill. It troubled her to perceive the junction of these different
qualities in her mother; and still more it troubled her to think what,
in case of coming to some point of conflict, she should do? How would
she get out of it? Would it be only by succumbing wholly, or had she the
courage in her to fight it out?
“Little un,” said Markham, coming up to her suddenly, “why do you look
at the mother so? Are you measuring yourself against her, to see how
things would stand if it came to a fight?”
“Markham!” Frances started with a great blush of guilt. “I did not know
you were here. I--never heard you come in.”
“You were so lost in thought. I have been here these five minutes,
waiting for an opportunity to put in a word. Don’t you know I’m a
thought-reader, like those fellows that find pins? Take my advice, Fan,
and never let it come to a fight.”
“I don’t know how to fight,” she said, crimsoning more and more; “and
besides, I was not thinking--there is nothing to fight about.”
“Fibs, these last,” he said. “Come out and take a little walk with
me,--you are looking pale; and I will tell you a thing or two. Mother, I
am going to take her out for a walk; she wants air.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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