Chronicles of Dustypore: A Tale of Modern Anglo-Indian Society — John Shaqi
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
Felicia had been surprised, and not altogether pleased, at the
unnecessary cordiality with which Maud had bade their visitor farewell.
There was an excitement, an animation, an eagerness in her manner which
Felicia had not before perceived, and which she felt at once might be
difficult to manage. Desvoeux was exactly the person whom she did _not_
want Maud to like, and the very possibility of her liking him brought
out in Felicia's mind a latent hostility of which, under an exterior of
politeness and even familiarity, she was always dimly conscious. She did
not mind talking to him herself; she was even amused by him; but then it
was always with a kind of protest; she knew exactly how far she meant to
go and felt no temptation to go any further. But the notion of him in
any other capacity but that of a remote member of society, whose
function it was to say and do absurd things in an amusing way, was
strange and altogether distasteful. Anything like intimacy was not to be
thought of for an instant; the merest approach to close contact would
bring out some discord, the jar of which, by a sort of instinctive
anticipation, Felicia seemed to feel already. So long as he moved in
quite another plane and belonged to a different world, his
eccentricities might be smiled at for their comicality without the
application of any rigid canon of taste or morals. But a person who was
at once irreligious and over-dressed, who constantly had to be 'put
down' for fear he should become offensive, and who was a stranger to all
the little Masonic signals by which ladies and gentlemen can find each
other out--the very idea of his presuming to cross the pale, and to form
any other tie than those of the most indifferent acquaintance, filled
Felicia with the strongest repugnance. It was provoking, therefore, that
he seemed to take Maud's fancy and impress her more than any other of
the many men with whom she was now becoming acquainted. It was more than
provoking that she should let her impressions come so lightly to the
surface, and be read in signs which Desvoeux's experienced eye would,
Felicia knew, have not the least trouble in interpreting.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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