The Shield of LoveFarjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
General
The Shield of Love
Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
English fiction -- 19th century
There were other contrasts which it may be as well to mention. As
brother and sister they were of equal social rank, but the equality
was not exhibited in their attire. Mr. Fox-Cordery would have been
judged to be a man of wealth, rich enough to afford himself all the
luxuries of life; Charlotte would have been judged a young woman who
had to struggle hard for a living, which, indeed, was not far from the
truth, for she was made to earn her bread and butter, if ever woman
was. Her clothing was common and coarse, and barely sufficient, the
length of her frock being more suitable to a girl of fifteen than to a
woman of twenty-eight. This was not altogether a drawback, for
Charlotte had shapely feet and ankles, but they would have been seen
to better advantage in neat boots or shoes than in the worn-out,
down-at-heels slippers she wore. Depend upon it she did not wear them
from choice, for every right-minded woman takes a proper pride in her
boots and shoes, and in her stockings, gloves, and hats. The slippers
worn at the present moment by Charlotte were the only available
coverings for her feet she had. True, there was a pair of boots in the
house which would fit no other feet than hers, but they were locked up
in her mother's wardrobe. Then her stockings. Those she had on were of
an exceedingly rusty black, and had been darned and darned till
scarcely a vestige of their original self remained. Another and a
better pair she ought to have had the right to call her own, and these
were in the house, keeping company with her boots. In her poorly
furnished bedroom you would have searched in vain for hat or gloves;
these were likewise under lock and key, with a decent frock and mantle
she was allowed to wear on special occasions, at the will of her
taskmasters. So that she was considerably worse off in these respects
than many a poor woman who lives with her husband and children in a
garret.
But for all this Charlotte was a pleasant picture to gaze upon, albeit
just now her features wore rather a grave expression. She had not an
ornament on her person, not a brooch or a ring, but her hair was
luxuriant and abundant, and was carefully brushed and coiled; her neck
was white, and her figure graceful; and though in a couple of years
she would be in her thirties, there was a youthfulness in her
appearance which can only be accounted for by her fortunate
inheritance of a cheerful spirit, of which, drudge as she was, her
mother and her brother could not rob her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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