Kate Coventry: An AutobiographyWhyte-Melville, G. J. (George John)
General
Kate Coventry: An Autobiography
Whyte-Melville, G. J. (George John)
England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
I cannot think why it is that
this should be so great a crime in the eyes of my own sex. Next to
being attractive to the other half of creation--and that I can easily
understand is totally unpardonable--there is nothing makes a woman so
angry with her sister as high spirits, natural courage, and above all a
love for a horse. It is very hard upon us that we should be debarred
from all out-of-door exercises and amusements by the prejudices of
those very individuals who ought to back us up in our efforts to
enlarge the circle of our amusements. I cannot see why it follows that
because I do not mind "weather," I must, therefore, be utterly
regardless of morality; nor how my knack of breaking in a horse should
imply an infraction of all the commandments. Are men the only bipeds
that can be at the same time brave and virtuous? Must pluck and piety
be for ever divorced in the female character? Shall I never be able to
keep the straight path in life because I can turn an awkward corner
with four horses at a trot? Female voices answer volubly in the
negative, and I give in.
But odious Sir Guy thinks none the worse of me for my coaching
predilections. "Fond of driving, Miss Coventry?" says he, leering at
me from over his great choking neckcloth. "Seen _my_ team--three greys
and a piebald? If you like going _fast_ I can accommodate you. Proud
to take you back on my drag. What? Go on the box. _Drive_, if you
like. Hey!"
I confess for one instant, much as I hated the old reprobate, I should
have liked to go, if it was only to make all the women so angry; but
just then I caught Captain Lovell's eye fixed upon me with a strange,
earnest expression, and all at once I felt that nothing should induce
me to trust myself with Sir Guy. I couldn't help blushing though as I
declined, more particularly when my would-be charioteer swore he
considered it "an engagement, hey?--only put off to another time--get
the coach new painted--begad, Miss Coventry's favourite colour!" And
the old monster grinned in my face till I could have boxed his ears.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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