Women -- France -- Fiction; Women's rights -- Fiction
Meanwhile all were paying court to her and none were accepted. It had,
indeed, been given out that she was engaged to M. de la Marche, but no
one understood any better than myself the indefinite postponement of the
marriage. People came to the conclusion that she was seeking a pretext
to get rid of him, and they could find no ground for her repugnance
except by supposing that she had conceived a great passion for myself.
My strange history had caused some stir; the women examined me with
curiosity; the men seemed interested in me and showed me a sort of
respect which I affected to despise, but to which, however, I was far
from insensible. And, since nothing finds credence in the world until it
is embellished with some fiction, people strangely exaggerated my wit,
my capabilities and my learning; but, as soon as they had seen M. de
la Marche and myself in Edmee’s company, all their inferences were
annihilated by the composure and ease of our manners. To both of us
Edmee was the same in public as in private; M. de la Marche, a soulless
puppet, was perfectly drilled in conventional manners; and myself, a
prey to divers passions, but inscrutable by reason of my pride and also,
I must confess, of my pretensions to the sublimity of the _American
manner_. I should tell you that I had been fortunate enough to be
introduced to Franklin as a sincere devotee of liberty. Sir Arthur
Lee had honoured me with a certain kindness and some excellent advice;
consequently my head was somewhat turned, even as the heads of those
whom I railed at so bitterly were turned, and to such an extent that
this little vainglory brought sorely needed relief to my agonies of
mind. Perhaps you will shrug your shoulders when I own that I took the
greatest pleasure in the world in leaving my hair unpowdered, in
wearing big shoes, and appearing everywhere in a dark-coloured coat, of
aggressively simple cut and stiffly neat--in a word, in aping, as far as
was then permissible without being mistaken for a regular plebeian, the
dress and ways of the Bonhomme Richard! I was nineteen, and I was living
in an age when every one affected a part--that is my only excuse.
I might plead also that my too indulgent and too simple tutor openly
approved of my conduct; that my Uncle Hubert, though he occasionally
laughed at me, let me do as I wished, and that Edmee said absolutely
nothing about this ridiculous affectation, and appeared never to notice
it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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