Sir Charles kept walking up and down the room, swearing softly into his
moustache. He retained some respect for ladies in this respect, it
appeared, for the only imprecation which was audible was a frequent
appeal to the father of the Olympian gods. “By Jove!” sometimes “By
Jupiter!” he said, and tugged at his moustache as if he would have
pulled it out. This was the house in which, bewildered, he had taken all
the shillings from his pocket and put them down on the table by way of
balancing Mr. Tredgold’s money. And now all Mr. Tredgold’s money was
his. He was not cool like Stella; a confused vision of all the glories
of this world--horses, race-meetings, cellars of wine, entertainments of
all kinds, men circling about him, not looking down upon him as a poor
beggar but up at him as no end of a swell, servants to surround him all
at once like a new atmosphere. He had expected something of the kind at
the time of his marriage, but those dreams had long abandoned him; now
they came back with a rush, not dreams any longer. Jove, Jupiter, George
(whoever that deity may be) he invoked in turns; his blood took to
coursing in his veins, it felt like quicksilver, raising him up, as if
he might have floated, spurning with every step the floor on which he
trod.
“I who had always been brought up so different!” cried Stella, with a
faint whimper in her voice. “That never had been used to it! Oh, what a
time I have had, Kate, having to give up things--almost everything I
ever wanted--and to do without things, and to be continually thinking
could I afford it. Oh, I wonder how papa had the heart! You think I
should be grateful, don’t you? But I can’t help remembering that I’ve
been kept out of it, just when I wanted it most, all these years----”
She made a pause, but nobody either contradicted or agreed with her.
Stella expected either the one or the other. Sir Charles went up and
down swearing by Jupiter and thinking in a whirl of all the fine things
before him, and Katherine sat at the end of the sofa saying nothing. In
sheer self-defence Stella had to begin again.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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