Tales and Novels — Volume 10: HelenEdgeworth, Maria
General
Tales and Novels — Volume 10: Helen
Edgeworth, Maria
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Women -- England -- Fiction
So ended the dinner. And, as Lady Cecilia passed the general in going
out of the room, she looked her contrition, her acknowledgment that he
was perfectly right in his prophecy that it would never do.
CHAPTER IX.
It was rather worse when the ladies were by themselves. Some of the
party were personally strangers to Lady Davenant; all had heard of her
sufficiently; most had formed a formidable and false opinion of
her. Helen was quite astonished at the awe her ladyship inspired in
strangers. Lady Davenant’s appearance and manner at this moment were
not, indeed, calculated to dispel this dread. She was unusually distant
and haughty, from a mistaken sort of moral pride. Aware that some of
the persons now before her had, in various ways, by their own or
their husbands’ means, power to serve or to injure Lord Davenant, she
disdained to propitiate them by the slightest condescension.
But how any persons in England--in London--could be strangers to Lady
Davenant, was to a foreign lady who was present, matter of inexpressible
surprise. She could not understand how the wives of persons high in
political life, some of opposite, but some of the same parties, should
often be personally strangers to each other. Foreigners are, on first
coming to England, apt to imagine that all who act together in public
life must be of the same private society; while, on the contrary,
it often happens that the ladies especially of the same party are in
different grades of fashion--moving in different orbits. The number
of different circles and orbits in London is, indeed, astonishing to
strangers, and the manner in which, though touching at tangents,
these keep each their own path, attracted and repelled, or mutually
influential, is to those who have not seen and studied the planisphere,
absolutely incomprehensible. And, as she pondered on this difficulty,
the ambassadress, all foreigner as she was, and all unused to silence,
spoke not, and no one spoke: and nought was heard but the cup on the
saucer, or the spoon in the cup, or the buzzing of a fly in the window.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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