Chronicles of Dustypore: A Tale of Modern Anglo-Indian SocietyCunningham, H. S. (Henry Stewart), Sir
History
Chronicles of Dustypore: A Tale of Modern Anglo-Indian Society
Cunningham, H. S. (Henry Stewart), Sir
British -- India -- Fiction; India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction
'Maud,' she said, and Maud thought her tones sounded harsh and
unsympathetic (how different from Felicia's gentle lectures! which
always thawed her heart at once), 'I have been commissioned to give you
a scolding and by whom, do you suppose?'
'I really don't know, and don't care,' said Maud, in a pet, 'I have had
enough the last few days to last me for some time. Will it not keep till
to-morrow or the day after?'
'No, it will not,' said Mrs. Vereker, who was herself sincerely provoked
at the notoriety which Maud's indiscretion had attained; 'it is from the
Viceroy. I have something to say to you from him. Now do you wish to
hear?'
'No,' said Maud, 'unless it is an appointment for my husband.'
'No, but it is about your husband, or about things your husband would
not like. He told me to scold you thoroughly.'
'Then,' said Maud, her heart beating so that she could scarcely speak,
'he took a great liberty. I know, however, that he did not.'
'Guilty conscience!' cried the other; 'how white you look! Well, it is
not exactly the truth, but it is not far off it. He gave me a hint.'
'He gave you a fiddlestick!' cried Maud in a passion; 'he meant to tell
you not to flirt yourself.'
'Oh no! Lord Clare and I understand each other far too well for that. He
said quite seriously, "When is Colonel Sutton coming up? Why don't he
come? He ought to come; write to him and say so; say so from me." Now,
what do you think that meant?'
Maud felt her colour gone and her heart beating violently, and could
venture on no reply.
'You see,' said her monitress pitilessly, 'you will be injudicious. I am
always telling you. You can't be content with fluttering round the
candle, but must needs go into the flame and singe your wings, and then
of course it hurts you. People should know when to stop.'
'And,' cried Maud, in a thorough passion, 'people should not throw
stones who live in glass houses. Why, Mrs. Vereker, if I am a flirt, I
should like to know who taught me?'
'Now you are rude and cross. You should never throw stones, whether you
live in a glass house or not. The best thing I can do is to leave you to
recover your temper.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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