American fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, American
Granger gave a laugh almost as odd as one of her own. "Oh you've cost me
that!"--and he put out his hand to her.
She wondered while she took it. "Cost you--?"
"We're not engaged. Good-bye."
MRS. MEDWIN
CHAPTER I
"Well, we ARE a pair!" the poor lady's visitor broke out to her at the
end of her explanation in a manner disconcerting enough. The poor lady
was Miss Cutter, who lived in South Audley Street, where she had an
"upper half" so concise that it had to pass boldly for convenient; and
her visitor was her half-brother, whom she hadn't seen for three years.
She was remarkable for a maturity of which every symptom might have been
observed to be admirably controlled, had not a tendency to stoutness
just affirmed its independence. Her present, no doubt, insisted too much
on her past, but with the excuse, sufficiently valid, that she must
certainly once have been prettier. She was clearly not contented with
once--she wished to be prettier again. She neglected nothing that could
produce that illusion, and, being both fair and fat, dressed almost
wholly in black. When she added a little colour it was not, at any rate,
to her drapery. Her small rooms had the peculiarity that everything they
contained appeared to testify with vividness to her position in society,
quite as if they had been furnished by the bounty of admiring friends.
They were adorned indeed almost exclusively with objects that nobody
buys, as had more than once been remarked by spectators of her own sex,
for herself, and would have been luxurious if luxury consisted mainly in
photographic portraits slashed across with signatures, in baskets of
flowers beribboned with the cards of passing compatriots, and in a neat
collection of red volumes, blue volumes, alphabetical volumes, aids to
London lucidity, of every sort, devoted to addresses and engagements. To
be in Miss Cutter's tiny drawing-room, in short, even with Miss Cutter
alone--should you by any chance have found her so--was somehow to be in
the world and in a crowd. It was like an agency--it bristled with
particulars.
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account