New England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Women -- New England -- Fiction
The three had supper alone. Conversation, as far as Mrs. Starling was
concerned, went on the pattern that has been given. Mr. Masters was at
the whole expense of the entertainment, mentally; and he talked with
the ease and pleasantness that seemed natural to him, of things that
could not help interesting the others; even Diana in her deadness of
heart, even Mrs. Starling in her perversity, pricked up their ears and
listened. I don't believe, either, he even found it a difficult effort;
nothing ever seemed difficult to Mr. Masters that he had to do; it was
always done so graciously, and as if he were enjoying it himself. So no
doubt he was. Certainly this evening; though Mrs. Starling did not
speak many words, and Diana spoke none. So supper was finished, and the
mistress and her guest moved their chairs to the fire, while Diana
busied herself in putting up the things, going in and out from the
pantry.
"You'll have to keep me to-night, Mrs. Starling," said the minister.
"I knew that when I saw you come in," responded the lady, not over
graciously.
"I am not going to receive hospitality under false pretences, though,"
said the minister. "If I rob, I won't steal. Mrs. Starling, Diana and I
have come to an agreement."
"I knew that too," returned the lady defiantly.
"According to which agreement," pursued the other, without change of a
hair, "I am coming again, some other time, to take her away, out of
your care into mine."
"There go two words to that bargain," said Mrs. Starling after a
half-minute's pause.
"Two words have been spoken; mine and hers. Now we want yours."
"Diana's got to take care of me."
"Does that mean that she is never to marry?"
"It don't mean anything ridiculous," said Mrs. Starling; "so it don't
mean that."
"I should not like to say anything ridiculous. Then, if she may marry,
it only remains that she and you should be suited. Do you object to me
as a son-in-law?"
It is impossible to convey the impression of the manner, winning, half
humourous, half dry, supremely careless and confident, in which all
this was said on the minister's part. It was something almost
impossible at the moment to withstand, and it fidgetted Mrs. Starling
to be under the power of it. Her grudge against the minister was even
increased by it, and yet she could not give vent to the feeling.
"I'm not called upon to make objections against you in any way," she
answered rather vaguely.
"That means, of course, that you have no objections to make?"
"I don't make any," said Mrs. Starling shortly.
"I must be content with that," said Mr. Masters, smiling. "Diana, your
mother makes no objections." And rising, he went and gravely kissed her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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