England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Manners and customs -- Fiction
DOLLY DIALOGUES
by Anthony Hope
CONTENTS
I. A Liberal Education
II. Cordial Relations
III. Retribution
IV. The Perverseness of It
V. A Matter of Duty
VI. My Last Chance
VII. The Little Wretch
VIII. An Expensive Privilege
IX. A Very Dull Affair
X. Strange but True
XI. The Very Latest Thing
XII. An Uncounted Hour
XIII. A Reminiscence
XIV. A Fine Day
XV. The House Opposite
XVI. A Quick Change
XVII. A Slight Mistake
XVIII. The Other Lady
XIX. What Might Have Been
XX. One Way In
A LIBERAL EDUCATION
“There’s ingratitude for you!” Miss Dolly Foster exclaimed suddenly.
“Where!” I asked, rousing myself from meditation.
She pointed to a young man who had just passed where we sat. He was
dressed very smartly, and was walking with a lady attired in the height
of the fashion.
“I made that man,” said Dolly, “and now he cuts me dead before the whole
of the Row! It’s atrocious. Why, but for me, do you suppose he’d be at
this moment engaged to three thousand a year and--and the plainest girl
in London?”
“Not that,” I pleaded; “think of--”
“Well, very plain anyhow. I was quite ready to bow to him. I almost
did.”
“In fact you did?”
“I didn’t. I declare I didn’t.”
“Oh, well, you didn’t then. It only looked like it.”
“I met him,” said Miss Dolly, “three years ago. At that time he was--oh,
quite unpresentable. He was everything he shouldn’t be. He was a
teetotaler, you know, and he didn’t smoke, and he was always going to
concerts. Oh, and he wore his hair long, and his trousers short, and his
hat on the back of his head. And his umbrella--”
“Where did he wear that?”
“He carried that, Mr. Carter. Don’t be silly! Carried it unrolled,
you know, and generally a paper parcel in the other hand; and he had
spectacles too.”
“He has certainly changed, outwardly at least.
“Yes, I know; well, I did that. I took him in hand, and I just taught
him, and now--!”
“Yes, I know that. But how did you teach him? Give him Saturday evening
lectures, or what?”
“Oh, every-evening lectures, and most-morning walks. And I taught him to
dance, and broke his wretched fiddle with my own hands!”
“What very arbitrary distinctions you draw!”
“I don’t know that you mean. I do like a man to be smart, anyhow. Don’t
you, Mr. Carter? You’re not so smart as you might be. Now, shall I take
you in hand?” And she smiled upon me.
“Let’s hear your method. What did you do to him?”
“To Phil Meadows? Oh, nothing. I just slipped in a remark here and
there, whenever he talked nonsense. I used to speak just at the right
time, you know.”
“But how had your words such influence, Miss Foster?”
“Oh, well, you know, Mr. Carter, I made it a condition that he should do
just what I wanted in little things like that. Did he think I was going
to walk about with a man carrying a brown paper parcel--as if we had
been to the shop for a pound of tea?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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