Life and Gabriella: The Story of a Woman's CourageGlasgow, Ellen Anderson Gholson
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Life and Gabriella: The Story of a Woman's Courage
Glasgow, Ellen Anderson Gholson
Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Virginia -- Fiction
"Perhaps," admitted Gabriella, as quietly as before. Unlike Madame, who,
being an incurable idealist, had won her victories not by accepting but
by evading facts, Gabriella was frankly skeptical about the practical
value of either her social position or her wealthy acquaintances.
Neither possession impressed her at the moment as marketable, except in
the vivid imagination of Madame, and her social position, at least, was
constructed of a very thin and unsubstantial fabric. Guided by the
prudent streak in her character, she rested her hope not upon
incorporeal possessions, but upon the solid bodies of her patrons that
must be clothed. Her imposing acquaintances would avail her scarcely
more, she suspected, than would the noble ghost of that ancestor who was
a general in the Revolution. What she relied on was the certainty that
she knew her work, and that Madame's customers from the greatest to the
least, from Mrs. Pletheridge to poor Miss Peterson, who bought only one
good gown a year, admitted the thoroughness of her knowledge. She had
got on by learning all that there was to learn about the details of the
work, and she stood now, secure and unassailable, on the foundation of
her achievement. In ten years she had fulfilled her resolution--she had
made herself indispensable. By patience, by hard work, by self-control,
by ceaseless thought, and by innumerable sacrifices, she had made
herself indispensable; and the result was that, as Madame weakened, she
had grown steadily stronger. Without her Dinard's would have dropped
long ago to the position of a second-rate house, and she was aware that
Madame understood this quite as clearly as she did. For whatever
Madame's executive ability may have been in the past, it had dwindled
now to the capricious endeavours of a chronic invalid--of an aging
invalid, notwithstanding her desperate struggle for youth. Half as much
energy as Madame had spent resisting Nature might have won for her a
sanctified memory had it been directed toward the practice of piety, or
a tablet of imperishable granite had it been devoted to as tireless a
pursuit of art or science. To her battle against age she had brought the
ambition of a conqueror and the devotion of a martyr; and at the last,
even to-day, there was a superb defiance in her refusal to acknowledge
defeat, in her demand that her surrender should be regarded as a
capitulation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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