Capitalists and financiers -- Fiction; Commercial crimes -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction; Satire
In her agony she wrote to her old friend Julia Triplex, now the wife
of Sir Damask Monogram. She had been really intimate with Julia
Triplex, and had been sympathetic when a brilliant marriage had been
achieved. Julia had been without fortune, but very pretty. Sir Damask
was a man of great wealth, whose father had been a contractor. But
Sir Damask himself was a sportsman, keeping many horses on which
other men often rode, a yacht in which other men sunned themselves, a
deer forest, a moor, a large machinery for making pheasants. He shot
pigeons at Hurlingham, drove four-in-hand in the park, had a box at
every race-course, and was the most good-natured fellow known. He had
really conquered the world, had got over the difficulty of being the
grandson of a butcher, and was now as good as though the Monograms
had gone to the crusades. Julia Triplex was equal to her position,
and made the very most of it. She dispensed champagne and smiles, and
made everybody, including herself, believe that she was in love with
her husband. Lady Monogram had climbed to the top of the tree, and
in that position had been, of course, invaluable to her old friend.
We must give her her due and say that she had been fairly true
to friendship while Georgiana--behaved herself. She thought that
Georgiana in going to the Melmottes had--not behaved herself, and
therefore she had determined to drop Georgiana. "Heartless, false,
purse-proud creature," Georgiana said to herself as she wrote the
following letter in humiliating agony.
DEAR LADY MONOGRAM,
I think you hardly understand my position. Of course you
have cut me. Haven't you? And of course I must feel it
very much. You did not use to be ill-natured, and I hardly
think you can have become so now when you have everything
pleasant around you. I do not think that I have done
anything that should make an old friend treat me in this
way, and therefore I write to ask you to let me see you.
Of course it is because I am staying here. You know me
well enough to be sure that it can't be my own choice.
Papa arranged it all. If there is anything against these
people, I suppose papa does not know it. Of course they
are not nice. Of course they are not like anything that
I have been used to. But when papa told me that the house
in Bruton Street was to be shut up and that I was to come
here, of course I did as I was bid. I don't think an
old friend like you, whom I have always liked more than
anybody else, ought to cut me for it. It's not about the
parties, but about yourself that I mind. I don't ask
you to come here, but if you will see me I can have the
carriage and will go to you.
Yours, as ever,
GEORGIANA LONGESTAFFE.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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