Autobiographical fiction; Domestic fiction; Male authors -- Fiction; Men -- Fiction; Psychological fiction
But during those two days of his first wild vassalage to his original
sensations, Pierre had not been unvisited by less mysterious impulses.
Two or three very plain and practical plannings of desirable procedures
in reference to some possible homely explication of all this
nonsense--so he would momentarily denominate it--now and then flittingly
intermitted his pervading mood of semi-madness. Once he had seized his
hat, careless of his accustomed gloves and cane, and found himself in
the street, walking very rapidly in the direction of the Miss Pennies'.
But whither now? he disenchantingly interrogated himself. Where would
you go? A million to one, those deaf old spinsters can tell you nothing
you burn to know. Deaf old spinsters are not used to be the depositaries
of such mystical secrecies. But then, they may reveal her name--where
she dwells, and something, however fragmentary and unsatisfactory, of
who she is, and whence. Ay; but then, in ten minutes after your leaving
them, all the houses in Saddle Meadows would be humming with the gossip
of Pierre Glendinning engaged to marry Lucy Tartan, and yet running
about the country, in ambiguous pursuit of strange young women. That
will never do. You remember, do you not, often seeing the Miss Pennies,
hatless and without a shawl, hurrying through the village, like two
postmen intent on dropping some tit-bit of precious gossip? What a
morsel for them, Pierre, have you, if you now call upon them. Verily,
their trumpets are both for use and for significance. Though very deaf,
the Miss Pennies are by no means dumb. They blazon very wide.
"Now be sure, and say that it was the Miss Pennies, who left the
news--be sure--we--the Miss Pennies--remember--say to Mrs. Glendinning
it was we." Such was the message that now half-humorously occurred to
Pierre, as having been once confided to him by the sister spinsters, one
evening when they called with a choice present of some very _recherche_
chit-chat for his mother; but found the manorial lady out; and so
charged her son with it; hurrying away to all the inferior houses, so as
not to be anywhere forestalled in their disclosure.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account