"Ask Mamma"; or, The Richest Commoner In EnglandSurtees, Robert Smith
General
"Ask Mamma"; or, The Richest Commoner In England
Surtees, Robert Smith
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Fox hunting -- Fiction
THE PRINGLES of course were furious when they read the
announcement of Billy’s marriage. Such a degradation to such a
respectable family, and communicated in such a way. We need
scarcely say that at first they all made the worst of it, running
Mrs. William down much below her real level, and declaring that
Billy though hard enough in money matters, was soft enough in
love affairs. Then Mrs. Half-a-yard-of-the-table Joe, who up to
that time had been the _belle_ of the family, essayed to pick her
to pieces, intimating that she was much indebted to her
dress—that fine feathers made fine birds—hoped that Billy would
like paying for the clothes, and wondered what her figure would
be like a dozen years thence. Mrs. Joe had preserved hers, never
having indeed having been in the way of spoiling it. Joe looked
as if he was to perpetuate the family name. By-and-by, when it
became known that the Countess Delacey’s yellow carriage, with
the high-stepping greys and the cocked-up-nose
beet-root-and-cherry-coloured Johnnies, was to be seen
astonishing the natives in Doughty Street, they began to think
better of it; and though they did not stint themselves for
rudeness (disguised as civility of course), they treated her less
like a show, more especially when Billy was present. Still,
though they could not make up their minds to be really civil to
her, they could not keep away from her, just as the moth will be
at the candle despite its unpleasant consequences. Indeed, it is
one of the marked characteristics of Snobbism, that they won’t be
cut. At least, if you do get a Snob cut, ten to one but he will
take every opportunity of rubbing up against you, or sitting down
beside you in public, or overtaking you on the road, or stopping
a mutual acquaintance with you in the street, either to show his
indifference or his independence, or in the hope of its passing
for intimacy. There are people who can’t understand any coolness
short of a kick. The Pringles were tiresome people. They would
neither be in with Mrs. William, nor out with her. So there was
that continual knag, knag, knagging going on in the happy united
family, that makes life so pleasant and enjoyable. Mrs. William
well knew, when any of them came to call upon her, that her
sayings and doings would furnish recreation for the rest of the
cage. It is an agreeable thing to have people in one’s house
acting the part of spies. One day Mrs. Joe, who lived in
Guildford Street, seeing the Countess’s carriage-horses
cold-catching in Doughty Street, while her ladyship discussed
some important millinery question with Mrs. William, could not
resist the temptation of calling, and not being introduced to the
Countess, said to Mis.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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