A Valiant Ignorance; vol. 2 of 3: A Novel in Three VolumesDickens, Mary Angela
General
A Valiant Ignorance; vol. 2 of 3: A Novel in Three Volumes
Dickens, Mary Angela
Fiction
A confused babel of voices--that curious, indefinable sound which is
shrill, though its shrillness would be most difficult to trace; harsh,
though it arises from the voices of well-bred men and women; and
absolutely unmeaning--was filling the two rooms from end to end; and the
soft light diffused by cleverly arranged lamps fell upon groups of
smartly dressed women and men equally correct in their attire on male
lines. It was about five o’clock, not a pleasant time on a gusty, sleety
November afternoon if Nature is allowed to have her own way; but inside
these rooms it was impossible to do anything but ignore nature; the air
was so soft and warm--faintly scented, too, with flowers--and the
colour so rich and delicate. The rooms themselves were a curious hybrid
between the fashionable and the artistic; that is to say, they were not
arranged according to any conventional tenets, and there were various
really beautiful hangings, “bits” of old brass, “bits” of old oak, and
“bits” of old china about. But all these, though very cleverly arranged,
were distinctly “posed.” The larger of the two rooms was obviously a
studio; rather too obviously, perhaps, since the fact was impressed by a
certain superabundance of artistic prettinesses. Charming little
arrangements in hangings, palms, or what not, “composed” at every turn
with the constantly shifting groups. The unconventionalism, in short,
was as carefully arranged as was the attitude of the host of the hour as
he stood leaning against a large easel, mysteriously curtained, talking
to Mrs. Romayne. He was a painter, and a clever painter; he had married
a clever wife, and as a result of the working of their respective brains
towards the same goal he had become the fashion. “Everybody” went to
“the Stormont-Eades’ affairs,” whether the affair in question was a
little dinner, a little “evening,” or a little tea-party--Mrs.
Stormont-Eade always affixed the diminutive; consequently everybody was
obliged to go; a fact which if carefully thought out, will lead to some
rather curious conclusions. And the little tea-parties, particularly in
the winter, were considered particularly desirable functions. One of
these tea-parties was going on now.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive