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 did all that,' cried Bertha, profiting by Miss Fennimore's absence;
'I hope to goodness she won't make it a precedent.'
'Wasn't it very tiresome?' asked Maria.
'Sometimes; but it made me comfortable, as if I had a backbone for my
day.'
'But didn't you want to feel like a lady?'
'I don't think I felt otherwise, Maria.'
'Like a grown-up lady, like mamma and my sisters?'
'O examples!' cried Bertha. 'No wonder Maria thinks doing nothing the
great thing to grow up for. But, Phoebe, how could you be so stupid as
to go and do all this heap? You might as well have stayed at home.'
'Miss Fennimore desired me!'
'The very reason why I'd have read stories, and made pictures out of
them, just to feel myself beyond her talons.'
'Talents, not talons,' said Maria. 'Cats have talons, people have
talents.'
'Sometimes both, sometimes neither,' observed Bertha. 'No explanation,
Phoebe; what's the use? I want to know if Owen Sandbrook didn't call you
little Miss Precision?'
'Something like it.'
'And you went on when he was there?'
'Generally.'
'Oh! what opportunities are wasted on some people. Wouldn't I have had
fun! But of course he saw you were a poor little not-come-out thing, and
never spoke to you. Oh! if Miss Charlecote would ask me to London!'
'And me!' chimed in Maria.
'Well, what would you do?'
'Not act like a goose, and bring home dry abstracts. I'd make Miss
Charlecote take me everywhere, and quite forget all my science, unless I
wanted to amaze some wonderful genius. Oh dear! won't I make Augusta
look foolish some of these days! She really thinks that steel attracts
lightning! Do you think Miss Charlecote's society will appreciate me,
Phoebe?'
'And me?' again asked Maria.
Phoebe laughed heartily, but did not like Bertha's scoffing mirth at
Maria's question. Glad as she was to be at home, her glimpse of the
outer world had so enlarged her perceptions, she could not help remarking
the unchildlike acuteness of the younger girl, and the obtuse
comprehension of the elder; and she feared that she had become
discontented and fault-finding after her visit. Moreover, when Bertha
spoke much English, a certain hesitation occurred in her speech which was
apt to pass unnoticed in her foreign tongues, but which jarred
unpleasantly on her sister's ear, and only increased when noticed.
At nine, when Phoebe rose as usual to wish good night, Miss Fennimore
told her that she need not for the future retire before ten, the hour to
which she had of late become accustomed. It was a great boon, especially
as she was assured that the additional hour should be at her own
disposal.
'You have shown that you can be trusted with your time, my dear. But not
to-night,' as Phoebe was turning to her desk; 'remember how long I have
suffered a famine of conversation. What! were you not sensible of your
own value in that respect?'
'I thought you instructed me; I did not know you conversed with me.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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