Pamela Pounce: A tale of tempestuous petticoatsCastle, Egerton
History
Pamela Pounce: A tale of tempestuous petticoats
Castle, Egerton
Great Britain -- History -- George III, 1760-1820 -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Romance fiction
“Excuse me, your Ladyship,” said Miss Pounce, when Lady Amelia stopped
for want of breath, “I am sure, speaking for Madame Mirabel, that she
will be duly conscious of your Ladyship’s land patronage, which we
shall do our best to deserve--Miss Popple, bring me the primrose set,
if you please,” and as the assistant sped away, Pamela looked out of
the window and remarked that it was a fine day. Now it was exactly
according to the best tradition of shop etiquette that the customer’s
attention should be respectfully distracted during an enforced wait, by
some polite conversation; and, indeed, most of Miss Pounce’s ladies had
a good deal to say and a good deal to listen to, when fortune favoured
them with a quiet moment in Miss Pounce’s company, but Lady Amelia
gazed upon the milliner with an arrogance that marked her repressive
intention, and then turned her head away and told Sarah to give her
seat to Jane or the child would look a fright for the rout to-night.
“Dear, to be sure,” thought Miss Pounce, “to see that poor piece jump
up, and her younger sister take her seat, all as if it were the most
natural thing in the world, if _that_ don’t tell a tale! I wish ’twas
the plain one I had the hatting of, I’d get some credit out of it.
Why, if you put a sun bonnet on the beauty there, she’d look out of
it, no more nor less than the same handsome doll--you’ve dropped your
_mouchoir_, Miss.”
Pamela handed the elder Miss Vibart back her useful linen handkerchief
with a movement as deferential as if it had been the finest gossamer
and valenciennes; and that young person took it with a pleasant smile,
blew her nose in it lustily, and thrust it into her reticule, no whit
ashamed of its sensible quality.
“That’s the girl for my money,” thought the observant shopwoman.
What a world in miniature was this showroom of hers! Pamela had already
seen many a comedy, many a drama played out in it. Here was a case of
Cinderella on the wrong sister. A shame it was to treat a nice young
lady so, because she happened to have a little pug nose and a wide
mouth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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