The Little Vanities of Mrs. Whittaker: A NovelWinter, John Strange
General
The Little Vanities of Mrs. Whittaker: A Novel
Winter, John Strange
Domestic fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Married women -- Fiction
"Utterly impossible, my dear. With any other partner, perhaps, but not
with Chamberlain. To put it plainly, my dear, Chamberlain put in the
money when I wanted to spread myself, and I did spread myself. The
experiment was a success, and I am saddled with Chamberlain for the rest
of my natural life."
"Is he no help to you?" said Regina.
"Well, he is less than no help. I think I shall be obliged to suggest
taking in another partner; the business is too big now to have the whole
responsibility on one pair of shoulders. I must have a holiday now and
again--goodness knows, it isn't often for a man of my substance--but
anything like the muddle in which I found things I never imagined even
Chamberlain could accomplish. He's a dear chap, too full of apologies,
perfectly aware of his own shortcomings, always in a domestic
pickle--which is not to be wondered at--but as a partner he is
hopeless."
"My poor Alfred!" said Regina.
"Ah, you may well say that. Of course, when one just comes back off a
holiday, one doesn't feel like doing collar work all the time, all
uphill and no easement. But it will pass, and I must seriously think of
taking someone else in."
"Have you anyone in your eye?"
"Well, of course, Tomkinson's a splendid man. One wouldn't give him a
full share, wouldn't make him an equal exactly, but I think it would be
a wise thing if we were to make him a junior partner. Besides that,
someone else might get hold of him; he is well known as a first-class
man."
"I should, my dear. But why should you go on working and toiling like
this? If you were to realize, and with what money I have we should be
quite comfortable."
"Oh no, oh no, thank you, Queenie, not while I am strong and well. I
should like a little more time to myself; I should like to be able to
run over to Paris for a week or to spend a few days by the seaside. I'm
thinking of taking up golf--I began to take an interest in the game at
Dieppe. It's good for the liver; a mild craze for golf has saved many a
man from an attack of paralysis."
"You would join a golf club?"
"Oh, yes, one of those clubs round London."
"And you would get an afternoon twice a week or so? Could I--could--I
walk round with you?"
"Oh, I don't think so; I don't think they allow ladies' on men's golf
links. No, no, if you want to start playing yourself, my dear, you must
join a ladies' club and play on your own. It would be good for you."
"Yes--it would. Won't you have any more coffee?"
"No, thanks. I may be late for dinner; possibly I may not be able to get
back--I'll send you a wire. By the way, when we leave Ye Dene we will
have a telephone put up."
"Yes," she said, "it would be most convenient."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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