The Daughters of the Little Grey HouseTaggart, Marion Ames
General
The Daughters of the Little Grey House
Taggart, Marion Ames
Families -- Juvenile fiction
Prue arose, tall and graceful in her eighteenth year, as a young
goddess, and walked to the window where she stood looking out, her
hands clasped at the back of her head with its crown of golden hair.
The sunshine lit her up into a splendour that had nothing to fear from
its most illuminating ray, and Wythie's busy hands paused, with her
needle held at the full length of its thread, to look at her anew with
an overwhelming sense of her fitness for a brilliant setting.
"I would have," said Prue slowly, without turning around, "I would have
an income that was equal to these boys' principal. I would have great
spacious rooms, filled with the most charming, exquisitely costumed
people. I would have a retinue of well-trained servants that would keep
me from feeling one jar of the wheels of living. I would have a life
full of big interests, not a little, limited life like ours here. I
would have the world, my sisters." And Prue extended her arms with a
regal gesture that seemed at once to hunger for it and to seize it.
"Oh, Prue, Prudy!" expostulated Wythie in genuine distress. "After all
our happy years in this dear little house! After all our blessed mother
has taught us of the beauty of simplicity and unworldliness!"
Prue turned then to look at her elder with a tolerant smile. "Don't be
so shocked, my dear, little, contented Mouse," she said. "You look as
though I had announced my desire for something criminal. I don't want
the world that we renounce in baptism; I don't want it in a sordid,
vulgar, mean way. I want a big stage and on it I'd like to play a big
part, and I'd like to use the power it gave me for glorious things.
There are more ways of being good than humdrum ones."
"You are ambitious, Prudence, and Mardy says that ambitious women are
not likely to be happy ones," insisted Wythie.
"Then I must be unhappy. I can't make myself like you, Wythie,
satisfied to live, like Kiku-san, purring by the fire, nor like Rob,
throwing herself into whatever lies at hand, and spending herself for a
tiny circle," said Prue. "I'm going out into the world and it shall not
be the worse for having me. I'm going to be part of a great scene, and
I don't mean to be a blot on it."
Rob had let her napkin fall and was watching Prue as closely as Wythie
was, sharing her presentiment of misfortune for their beautiful
youngest, but seeing farther.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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