Scarlet and Hyssop: A NovelBenson, E. F. (Edward Frederic)
General
Scarlet and Hyssop: A Novel
Benson, E. F. (Edward Frederic)
London (England) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Married people -- Fiction
So, then, according to the world's view, she was in the position of many
women who held their heads high, and thought of the world generally as
their playground, the place kindly provided for the amusement of their
spare time, of which they had twenty-four hours every day. Whether the
disrepute of all these was as reliable as that which she had herself
just gained was not the immediate point to be considered; but certainly,
if one took a man like Arthur Naseby into a corner, he would, with no
encouragement at all, tell an intimate and abominable history of half
the folk he knew. For herself, she was not in the habit of taking this
stout and poisonous gentleman into corners. Scandalous stories did not
amuse her, particularly if they were true, and immorality she thought to
be a thing not only wicked, but vulgar. Wickedness, as she had once
said, seemed to the world in which she lived merely an obsolete term,
describing a moral condition which had no appreciable existence; and
sometimes she wondered whether vulgarity was not passing into the
category of words without significance. And now it appeared that people
were saying about her what they said about so many others, with no sense
of condemnation, but--and here lay the nausea of the thing--with
amusement. She could almost hear Arthur's voice stridently declaiming:
"After all, poor thing, why shouldn't she amuse herself like everybody
else? It was the one thing wanted to make her perfectly charming. But I
think we shall hear less about the stupidity and vulgarity of the world.
Artistically speaking, she ought to have modulated the change more. Just
a shade too abrupt--a little Wagnerian in its change of key;" and roars
of laughter would follow.
But this new condition in her life had by no means constituted the sum
of these three days' meditation in the country. With the elasticity
inherent in human nature, the moment the new condition had been made,
her mental fibres set themselves automatically to adjust themselves to
it. Doctors say that any patient adjusts himself to the most fatal
sentence in twenty-four hours; the thing becomes a part of life. It was
so with her, and now she felt, though not reconciled, at any rate used
to the thing. Though highly introspective, she was not, in the ordinary
sense of the word, self-conscious, and she no longer believed that the
changed glances of the world at her would affect her very seriously.
Surely she could manage to take them at their correct and worthless
valuation. At first the thought of that had seemed intolerable; but
after three days she was beginning to feel she cared very appreciably
less.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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