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
Not much like romance, but practical sense was both native and cultivated
in Miss Fennimore's pupil. Yet as she recorded the sentences, and read
them over bereft of the speaker's caressing grace, she blamed herself as
unkind, and making the worst of gay retorts which had been provoked by
her own home thrusts. 'At least,' she thought, 'he will be glad to see
that it was partly my fault, and he need never see it at all if Lucy will
let him speak to her himself.'
Meantime, Honora had found from Owen that the young ladies had accepted
an invitation to a very gay house in Cheshire, so that their movements
would for a fortnight remain doubtful. She recurred to her view that the
only measure to be taken was for him to follow them, so as to be able to
interpose in any emergency, and she anxiously pressed on him the funds
required.
'Shouldn't I catch it if they found me out!' said Owen, shrugging his
shoulders. 'No, but indeed, Sweet Honey, I meant to have made up for
this naughty girl's desertion. You and I would have had such rides and
readings together: I want you to put me on good terms with myself.'
'My dear boy! But won't that best be done by minding your sister? She
does want it, Owen; the less she will be prudent for herself, the more we
must think for her!'
'She can do better for herself than you imagine,' said Owen. 'Men say,
with all her free ways, they could not go the least bit farther with her
than she pleases. You wouldn't suppose it, but she can keep out of
scrapes better than Rashe can--never has been in one yet, and Rashe in
twenty. Never mind, your Honor, there's sound stuff in the bonny
scapegrace; all the better for being free and unconventional. The world
owes a great deal to those who dare to act for themselves; though, I own,
it is a trial when one's own domestic womankind take thereto.'
'Or one's mankind to encouraging it,' said Honor, smiling, but showing
that she was hurt.
'I don't encourage it; I am only too wise to give it the zest of
opposition. Was Lucy ever bent upon a naughty trick without being doubly
incited by the pleasure of showing that she cared not for her younger
brother?'
'I believe you are only too lazy! But, will you go? I don't think it
can be a penance. You would see new country, and get plenty of sport.'
'Come with me, Honey,' said he with the most insinuating manner, which
almost moved her. 'How jolly it would be!'
'Nonsense! an elderly spinster,' she said, really pleased, though knowing
it impossible.
'Stuff!' he returned in the same tone. 'Make it as good as a honeymoon.
Think of Killarney, Honor!'
'You silly boy, I can't. There's harvest at home; besides, it would only
aggravate that mad girl doubly to have me coming after her.'
'Well, if you will not take care of me on a literal wild-goose chase,'
said Owen, with playful disconsolateness, 'I'll not answer for the
consequences.'
'But, you go?'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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