The confessions of a well-meaning womanMcKenna, Stephen
General
The confessions of a well-meaning woman
McKenna, Stephen
English fiction -- 20th century; Upper class -- England -- Fiction; Women -- England -- Fiction
Partly I have been busy, partly I have been very much worried, partly
I have been driven to it in self-defence. I only wish I had been
more unyielding before. I told you of the mad clergyman from
Morecambe who swept like a whirl-wind into this room, demanding to
see my husband and, so far as I can make out, trying to browbeat my
boy into marrying his daughter... It began from that day, and I find
it hard to forgive Arthur for not enlightening me. With Will it was
altogether different; no man that I should care to meet would try to
get out of a difficulty at the expense of a woman. The code forbids
that...
But, if Arthur--who _knew_ as soon as there was anything to know--had
told me, I should have acted at _once_; we should not be in our
present state of absolute uncertainty, simply waiting with folded
hands for the next blow to fall... Men have a strange idea that
certain things are exclusively their _province_; their wives, even
the mothers of their children must remain outside the door until it
is too late to repair the damage. I was not told the _facts_ until
two days ago...
When my boy was offered that position at Morecambe, I went with him
to see that he had a place fit to live in. The Phentons seemed our
best hope, they were highly recommended, and I will say ungrudgingly
that they played their cards well. An elderly clergyman, who had
resigned his benefice on account of ill-health, a decent motherly
woman for wife--and these two girls, young, presentable and
thoroughly _nice_... If you tell me that I am too unready to think
ill of people, I have no defence--except to say that I am not
prepared to go through life _suspecting_... Molly Phenton was very
much "the old country parson's pretty little daughter"; simple,
innocent, shy; a little fluttered, you would say, when she heard who
we were, and agreeably excited by the prospect of having a
good-looking young man to stay in the house...
Perhaps she _overdid_ the innocence. Eyes are eyes, and saucers are
saucers... But I don't wish to appear wise after the event. I was
completely taken in...
And so was Will. She was clever enough to guess that this was the
appeal to reach him quickest: the simple little girl with the soft
hair and the big grey eyes, living out of the world with her old
father, no brothers to protect her or _teach_ her anything. One
would never have been surprised to find her affecting a lisp... She
deliberately laid herself out to catch my boy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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