Hopes and Fears: or, scenes from the life of a spinsterYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
General
Hopes and Fears: or, scenes from the life of a spinster
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
England -- Social conditions -- 19th century -- Fiction; Single women -- Fiction
'You will at least tell your reasons for refusing.'
'Yes, and much I shall be heeded! However, my own hands shall be pure
from the wages of iniquity. I am thankful that all I have comes from the
Mervyns.'
'It is a comfort, at least, that you see your way.'
'I suppose it is;' but he sighed heavily, with a sense that it was almost
profanation to have set such a profession in the balance against the
sacred ministry.
'I know _she_ will like it best.'
Dear Phoebe! in spite of Miss Fennimore, faith must still have been much
stronger than reason if she could detect the model parsoness in yonder
firefly.
Poor child, she went to bed, pondering over her brother's terrible
discoveries, and feeling as though she had suddenly awakened to find
herself implicated in a web of iniquity; her delightful parcel of
purchases lost their charms, and oppressed her as she thought of them in
connection with the rags of the squalid children the rector had
described, and she felt as if there were no escape, and she could never
be happy again under the knowledge of the price of her luxuries, and the
dread of judgment. 'Much good had their wealth done them,' as Robert
truly said. The house of Beauchamp had never been nearly so happy as if
their means had been moderate. Always paying court to their own station,
or they were disunited among themselves, and not yet amalgamated with the
society to which they had attained, the younger ones passing their elders
in cultivation, and every discomfort of change of position felt, though
not acknowledged. Even the mother, lady as she was by birth, had only
belonged to the second-rate class of gentry, and while elevated by
wealth, was lowered by connection, and not having either mind or strength
enough to stand on her own ground, trod with an ill-assured foot on that
to which she aspired.
Not that all this crossed Phoebe's mind. There was merely a dreary sense
of depression, and of living in the midst of a grievous mistake, from
which Robert alone had the power of disentangling himself, and she fell
asleep sadly enough; but, fortunately, sins, committed neither by
ourselves, nor by those for whom we are responsible, have not a lasting
power of paining; and she rose up in due time to her own calm sunshiny
spirit of anticipation of the evening's meeting between Robin and
Lucy--to say nothing of her own first dinner-party.
CHAPTER IV
And instead of 'dearest Miss,'
Jewel, honey, sweetheart, bliss,
And those forms of old admiring,
Call her cockatrice and siren.--C. LAMB
The ladies of the house were going to a ball, and were in full costume:
Eloisa a study for the Arabian Nights, and Lucilla in an azure
gossamer-like texture surrounding her like a cloud, turquoises on her
arms, and blue and silver ribbons mingled with her blonde tresses.
Very like the clergyman's wife!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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