Didactic fiction; Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; Married women -- Fiction
get the better of dignity.’ I now comforted him with the example of
Xerxes, as I had before done with that of the king of Sweden; and soon
after we sat down to breakfast together with much cordial friendship;
for I assure you, with all his oddity, there is not a better-natured man
in the world than the major.”
“Good-natured, indeed!” cries Miss Matthews, with great scorn. “A fool!
how can you mention such a fellow with commendation?”
Booth spoke as much as he could in defence of his friend; indeed, he
had represented him in as favourable a light as possible, and had
particularly left out those hard words with which, as he hath observed a
little before, the major interlarded his discourse. Booth then proceeded
as in the next chapter.
Chapter ix.
_Containing very extraordinary matters._
“Miss Bath,” continued Booth, “now recovered so fast, that she was
abroad as soon as my wife. Our little partie quarree began to grow
agreeable again; and we mixed with the company of the place more than we
had done before. Mons. Bagillard now again renewed his intimacy, for the
countess, his mistress, was gone to Paris; at which my wife, at first,
shewed no dissatisfaction; and I imagined that, as she had a friend
and companion of her own sex (for Miss Bath and she had contracted
the highest fondness for each other), that she would the less miss my
company. However, I was disappointed in this expectation; for she soon
began to express her former uneasiness, and her impatience for the
arrival of Captain James, that we might entirely quit Montpelier.
“I could not avoid conceiving some little displeasure at this humour of
my wife, which I was forced to think a little unreasonable.”--“A little,
do you call it?” says Miss Matthews: “Good Heavens! what a husband are
you!”--“How little worthy,” answered he, “as you will say hereafter, of
such a wife as my Amelia. One day, as we were sitting together, I heard
a violent scream; upon which my wife, starting up, cried out, ‘Sure
that’s Miss Bath’s voice;’ and immediately ran towards the chamber
whence it proceeded. I followed her; and when we arrived, we there
beheld the most shocking sight imaginable; Miss Bath lying dead on the
floor, and the major all bloody kneeling by her, and roaring out for
assistance. Amelia, though she was herself in little better condition
than her friend, ran hastily to her, bared her neck, and attempted to
loosen her stays, while I ran up and down, scarce knowing what I did,
calling for water and cordials, and despatching several servants one
after another for doctors and surgeons.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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