Cecil Castlemaine's Gage, Lady Marabout's Troubles, and Other StoriesOuida
General
Cecil Castlemaine's Gage, Lady Marabout's Troubles, and Other Stories
Ouida
Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
"Hold your tongue! If the Templars' Order were extant, wouldn't I take
the vows and bless them! What an unspeakable comfort and protection that
white cross would be to us, Phil, if we could stick it on our coats, and
know it would say to every woman that looked at us, 'No go, my pretty
little dears--not to be caught!' Marriage! I can't remember any time
that that word wasn't my bugbear. When I was but a little chicken, some
four years old, I distinctly remember, when I was playing with little
Ida Keane on the terrace, hearing her mother simper to mine, 'Perhaps
darling Goodwood may marry my little Ida some day, who knows?' I never
would play with Ida afterwards; instinct preserved me; she's six or
seven-and thirty now, and weighs ten stone, I'm positive. Why _won't_
they let us alone? The way journalists and dowagers, the fellows who
want to write a taking article, and the women who want to get rid of a
taking daughter, all badger us, in public and private, about marriage
just now, is abominable, on my life; the affair's _ours_, I should say,
not theirs, and to marry isn't the ultimatum of a man's existence, nor
anything like it."
"I hope not! It's more like the extinguisher. Good night, old fellow."
And Carruthers drove away in his hansom, while Goodwood got into his
night-brougham, thinking that for the sake of the title, the evil
(nuptial) day _must_ come, sooner or later, but dashed off to forget
the disagreeable obligation over the supper-table of the most sparkling
empress of the demi-monde.
Lady Marabout had her wish; she brought out the belle of the season, and
when a little time had slipped by, when the Hon. Val had been presented
at the first Drawing-room, and shone there despite the worry, muddle,
and squeeze incidental to that royal and fashionable ceremony, and she
had gathered second-hand from her son what was said in the clubs
relative to this new specimen of the Valletort beauty, she began to be
happier under her duties than she had ever been before, and wrote
letters to "dearest Adeliza," brimful of superlative adjectives and
genuine warmth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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