Blue-Stocking Hall, (Vol. 1 of 3)Scargill, William Pitt
General
Blue-Stocking Hall, (Vol. 1 of 3)
Scargill, William Pitt
Epistolary fiction; Women -- Conduct of life -- Fiction; Women -- Education -- Fiction
Just as we were about to separate, Fanny called me, and whispered,
"Don't go yet to your room. We are going to hold a conference for
a few minutes in the study, and you must assist at our council." I
accordingly lagged behind, and after Mr. Oliphant and my aunt had
severally retired, _we_ five mustered in the Library. Emily opened
the proceedings, by saying, "Arthur, my brother, sisters and I,
have set our hearts upon accomplishing a project which Frederick
and I devised in our walk this evening. It is to prevail with our
beloved mother to accompany us to Killarney. It is _many_ years
since she has been there, and I know that she will not revisit
that heavenly spot without the deepest emotion. Yet we cannot
help flattering ourselves with its being of such a nature as not
to amount to pain; and it will be counteracted by the pleasure of
beholding our rapture at seeing her make one in our excursion.
Phil. is in our secret, and _now_ so are you. We are going to
write a petition. She shall not have it to-night, because it might
agitate her; and it shall only be signed by her children, because
if such happiness as her compliance would impart, should be in
store for us, it is of that sacred character which we could not
bear to owe even to the dearest friends; and if, on the other hand,
as I am afraid may prove the case, we are asking too much, we
will not involve any one else in the pain of a refusal. Now good
night--wish us success, and meet us in the moss-house at eight in
the morning to learn our fate."
I went to my room quite unable to speak--I was suffocating, and,
_shall_ I confess to Falkland (but proclaim it not in Gath) tears,
such as I never shed before in all my life, coursed each other down
my "innocent nose." It is too much. Unmanned at a short turn, and
by what? a set of children laying schemes to have their mother's
company in a party of pleasure! Well, I know not what is to come
next, but this place will be the ruin of me, if this is the way
in which I go on resigning my understanding. Positively I shall
be absolutely unfit for society, and look when I go back to town
precisely as if I had been spending a couple of months with Noah in
the ark, and had just stepped out on Mount Ararat. I took myself to
task; shook myself; scolded myself; chewed the cud of the last ball
at Almack's; ditto at Lady Arabella Huntley's; placed myself in the
midst of that group with whom I passed my last London evening at
Lady Murray's after the Opera; but it would not do.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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