Domestic fiction; Girls -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction
"It is dreadful to think that any one would take the trouble to do such
a thing for the sake of going to the Dudgeons," she said. "Are you sure
you are not mistaken?"
"Oh, Miss Meredith is happy for a week if she can squeeze in an excuse
for going to the Dudgeons," replied Elma. "The Dudgeons are such ’high
steppers,’ you know."
"I don’t like it," said Mrs. Leighton, "I really don’t. None of you were
brought up to go your own way like that, and I don’t admire it in other
people."
"Isobel believes in grabbing for everything one wants with both hands.
She doesn’t mean to do anything wicked. She simply means to be on the
spot," said Elma.
"But what about loyalty, and friendship, and--and honour?" said poor
Mrs. Leighton.
"Oh, when you are grabbing with both hands for other things you haven’t
time for these."
"My precious child! What in the wide world are you saying!" Mrs.
Leighton was quite horrified.
"Nothing that I mean, or believe in, mummy. Only what Isobel believes
in. She thinks we are fools to bother about loyalty and that kind of
thing. She hasn’t had any one, I think, who cared whether she was
honourable or not. And it must be distracting to know that all the time
she can be perfectly beautiful. It must make you think that everything
ought to come to you, no matter how."
Elma was really scourging herself now for that iniquity of "the
bounder."
"Why didn’t you tell me before?" said Mrs. Leighton.
"Oh, mummy, I’m almost sorry I told you now. Except that it lifts the
most awful weight from my mind. I’ve been so afraid that while Isobel
went on being so sweet and graceful that we should all get bad-tempered
if you believed in her very much. She countermands my orders to the
servants often and often, and they never think of disobeying her.
That’s one thing I want to ask you about. If I insist on their obeying
me, will you back me up? I simply crinkle before Isobel, I hate so to
appear to be against her in any way. But Mabel told me I’m to play up as
head of the house, and I’m not doing it while Isobel upsets any order of
mine with a turn of her little finger. It’s awfully weak of me, but
I’ve always said I was made to be bullied, I do so hate having rows with
people."
The murder was out then.
Mabel had been gone four weeks, and the housekeeping which had gradually
drifted into her hands was now of course in the command of Elma, or
ought to be. Mrs. Leighton saw at last where Isobel had been getting
hold of the reins of government.
"You must not be jealous of Isobel’s attractions," she said. "And you
know, Elma, any little squabble with your cousin would be a rather
dreadful thing."
"Awful," said Elma.
"Your father would never forgive us."
"He would understand, though," said Elma. There was always such a
magnificence of justice about her father.
"He is feeling being without the girls so much," said Mrs. Leighton.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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