'I'd sooner sing a little later. I don't know where my music is, it
has been all put away. But do you sing. St. Clare will accompany you.
Do, to please me,' and Mrs. Lahens sat down in a distant corner.
She had said that very morning, as she painted her face before the
glass, 'I am an old woman, or nearly. How many more years? Three at
most, then I shall be like Lady Castlerich.' And the five minutes she
had spent looking into an undyed and unpainted old age had frightened
her. She had hated the world she had worshipped so long. She had hated
all things, and wished herself out of sight of all things. That she
who had been so young, so beautiful, so delightful to men, should
become old, ugly, and undesirable. That she should one day be like
Lady Castlerich! That such things should happen to others were well
enough; that they should happen to her seemed an unspeakable and
revolting cruelty. And it was at that moment that her husband had sent
for her. He had told her she must give up her lover for her daughter's
sake. Should she do this? Could she do this? She did not know. But
this she did know, that the present was not the time to speak to her
of it. Give him up, hand him over to that horrid Mrs. Priestly, who
was trying all she could to get him. Whatever else might be, that
should not be.... She loved her daughter, and would do her duty by her
daughter, but they must not ask too much of her.... She had lost her
temper, she had said things that she regretted saying; but what
matter, what did the poor Major matter--a poor, mad thing like him?
These were the thoughts that filled Mrs. Lahens' mind while Lilian
sang. The purity of Lilian's voice was bitterness to Mrs. Lahens, and
it was bitterness to remember that St. Clare loved that face. For no
one now loved her face except perhaps Chad, and they wanted her to
give him up. It was the knowledge that the time of her youth was at an
end that forced Mrs. Lahens to say that Lilian sang out of tune, and
to revive an old scandal concerning her.
'Surely, mother,' said Agnes, 'all you say did not happen to the young
girl who has just left the room?'
III.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account