Bildungsromans; Love stories; Young women -- England -- Fiction
"I came to speak to you about Barbara," said Rose. "She is not fit to
come out this morning. I told her it was very ungrateful not to make an
effort after you had been so kind; but I am sorry to say she has not a
strong sense of duty; and I don't think she would be able to sing or do
anything but look stupid. I hope you will not think very badly of her.
There are some people who can't help giving in, I suppose," said Rose,
with an impatient little sigh.
"And so this is you, you dear little Rose!" said Lucilla, "and I have
never seen you before since I came home--and you always were such a pet
of mine at Mount Pleasant! I can't think why you never came to see me
before; as for me, you know, I never have any time. Poor papa has nobody
else to take care of him, and it always was the object of my life to be
a comfort to papa."
"Yes," said Rose, who was a straightforward little woman, and not given
to compliments. "I have a great deal to do too," she said; "and then all
my spare moments I am working at my design. Papa always says that
society accepts artists for what they can give, and does not expect them
to sacrifice their time," Rose continued, with her little air of
dignity. Miss Marjoribanks knew very well that society was utterly
unconscious of the existence of the Lake family; but then there is
always something imposing in such a perfectly innocent and superb
assumption as that to which the young Preraphaelite had just given
utterance; and it began to dawn upon Lucilla that here was another
imperfectly understood but effective instrument lying ready to her hand.
"I should like to see your design," said Miss Marjoribanks graciously.
"You made such a pretty little wreath for the corner of my
handkerchief--don't you remember?--all frogs' legs and things. It looked
so sweet in the old satin stitch. What is the matter with poor Barbara?
I felt sure she would catch cold and lose her voice. I shall tell papa
to go and see her. As for to-night, it will be a dreadful loss to be
sure, for I never could find a voice that went so well with mine. But if
you are sure she can't come----"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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