I am sorry that in this story I have always been placed in natural
opposition to this woman, who was certainly a creature full of interest,
full of resource, and indomitable in her way. And she had a theory of
existence, as, it is my opinion, we all must have, making out to
ourselves the most plausible reasons and excuses for all we do. Her
struggle--in which she would not have denied that she had sometimes been
unscrupulous--had always been for a standing-ground on which, if once
attained, she could have been good. She had always promised herself that
she would be good when once she had attained--oh, excellent! kind, just,
true!--a model woman. And what, after all, had been her methods? There
had been little harm in them. Here and there somebody had been injured,
as in the case of Aubrey Leigh, of Charlie Kingsward. To the first she
had indeed done considerable harm, but then she had soothed the life of
Amy, his little foolish wife, to whom she had been more kind than she
had been unkind to him. She had not wanted to be the third person
between that tiresome couple. She had stayed in his house from a kind of
sense of duty, and had Aubrey Leigh indeed asked her to become his
second wife she would, of course, have accepted him for the sake of the
position, but with a grimace. She was not particularly sorry for having
harmed him. It served him right for--well, for being Aubrey Leigh. And
as for Bee Kingsward, she had triumphantly proved, much to her own
surprise it must be said, that it was not she who had done Bee any
harm. Then Charlie--poor Charlie, poor boy! He thought, of course, that
he was very miserable and badly used. Great heavens! that a boy should
have the folly to imagine that anything could make him miserable, at
twenty-two--a man, and with all the world before him. Miss Lance at this
moment was not in the least sorry for Charlie. It would do him good. A
young fellow who had nothing in the world to complain of, who had
everything in his favour--it was good for him to be unhappy a little, to
be made to remember that he was only flesh and blood after all.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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