Boston Neighbours In Town and OutPoor, Agnes Blake
General
Boston Neighbours In Town and Out
Poor, Agnes Blake
Boston (Mass.) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories
"What!" exclaimed her hearer, in bewildered astonishment. Wild visions
of the luckless Ponsonby, having heard by clairvoyance, or submarine
cable, of his own pretensions, and having forthwith taken himself out of
the way by pistol or poison, floated through his brain, and he went on
in an awe-struck tone, "Is he--is he dead?"
"He never lived; Mr. Ponsonby, from first to last, is a pure piece of
fiction. Oh, you need not look so amazed; I am not out of my senses, I
assure you. Ask my father, ask my mother--they will tell you the same.
And now, stop! Once for all, just once! You must hear what I have to
say. I shall never ask you to hear me again, and you probably will never
want to."
He looked blankly at her in a state of hopeless bewilderment.
"Oh," she broke out suddenly, "you do not know--how should you?--what it
is to be a girl! to sit and smile and look pleasant while your life is
being settled for you, and to see some man or other doing his best to
make an utter snarl of it, while you must wait ready with your 'If you
please,' when he chooses to ask you to dance with him or marry him. And
to be a pretty girl is ten times worse. Everyone had settled ever since
I was seventeen that I was to marry Jack Allston. Both his family and my
family took it as a matter of course, and liked it well enough, as one
likes matters of course. I liked it well enough myself. I cannot say now
that I was ever in love with Jack Allston, but he seemed bound up in me,
and I was very fond of him, and thought I should be still more so when
we were once engaged. All the girls in my set expected to marry or be
called social failures, and where was I ever to find a better match in
every way than Jack? If I had refused him everyone would have thought
that I was mad. I had not the least idea of doing so, but meanwhile I
was in no hurry to be married. I thought it would be nicer to wait and
have a little pleasure, and I did have a great deal, till I was
eighteen, then till I was nineteen, and so on----"
She stopped for a moment, for her voice was trembling, but with an
effort recovered herself and went on more firmly:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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