Letty Sewell meanwhile had reached the quiet of a luxurious bedroom, and
summoned her maid to her assistance. When the maid departed, the mistress
held long counsel with herself over the fire: the general position of her
affairs; what she desired; what other people intended; her will, and the
chances, of getting it. Her thoughts dealt with these various problems in
a skilled and business-like way. To a particular form of self-examination
Letty was well accustomed, and it had become by now a strong agent in the
development of individuality, as self-examination of another sort is said
to be by other kinds of people.
She herself was pleasantly conscious of real agitation. George Tressady
had touched her feelings, thrilled her nerves, more than--Yes! she said
to herself decidedly, more than anybody else, more than "the rest." She
thought of "the rest," one after the other--thought of them
contemptuously. Yet, certainly few girls in her own set and part of the
country had enjoyed a better time--few, perhaps, had dared so many
adventures. Her mother had never interfered with her; and she herself had
not been afraid to be "talked about." Dances, picnics, moonlight walks;
the joys of outrageous "sitting-out," and hot rivalries with prettier
girls; of impertinences towards the men who didn't matter, and pretty
flatteries towards the men who did--it was all pleasant enough to think
of. She could not reproach herself with having missed any chances, any
opportunities her own will might have given her.
And yet--well, she was tired of it!--out of love altogether with her
maiden state and its opportunities. She had come to Malford House in a
state of soreness, which partly accounted, perhaps, for such airs as she
had been showing to poor Mrs. Hawkins. During the past year a particular
marriage--the marriage of her neighbourhood--had seemed intermittently
within her reach. She had played every card she knew--and she had failed!
Failed, too, in the most humiliating way. For the bride, indeed, was
chosen; but it was not Letty Sewell, but one of Letty's girl-neighbours.
To-night, almost for the first time, she could bear to think of it; she
could even smile at it. Vanity and ambition alone had been concerned, and
to-night these wild beasts of the heart were soothed and placable.
Well, it was no great match, of course--if it came off. All that Aunt
Watton knew about the Tressadys had been long since extracted from her by
her niece. And with Tressady himself Letty's artless questions had been
very effective. She knew almost all that she wished to know. No doubt
Ferth was a very second-rate "place"; and, since those horrid miners had
become so troublesome, his income as a coal-owner could not be what his
father's had been--three or four thousand a year, she supposed--more,
perhaps, in good years. It was not much.
Still--she pressed her hands on her eyes--he was _distinguished_; she saw
that plainly already. He would be welcome anywhere.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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