Autobiographical fiction; British -- Belgium -- Fiction; Brussels (Belgium) -- Fiction; Love stories; Women teachers -- Fiction
“Oh, I have heard it,” said I, quite coolly; “and on the whole, perhaps
it is as well you should have heard it too: it is not to be regretted,
it is all right. Yet, surely, Ginevra’s mind cannot influence yours.
You can look over both her head and her heart.”
“She does influence me very much. She has the art of disturbing my
happiness and unsettling my opinions. She hurts me through the feelings
and people dearest to me.”
“What does she say, Paulina? Give me some idea. There may be
counteraction of the damage done.”
“The people I have longest and most esteemed are degraded by her. She
does not spare Mrs. Bretton—she does not spare…. Graham.”
“No, I daresay: and how does she mix up these with her sentiment and
her…._love_? She does mix them, I suppose?”
“Lucy, she is insolent; and, I believe, false. You know Dr. Bretton. We
both know him. He may be careless and proud; but when was he ever mean
or slavish? Day after day she shows him to me kneeling at her feet,
pursuing her like her shadow. She—repulsing him with insult, and he
imploring her with infatuation. Lucy, is it true? Is any of it true?”
“It may be true that he once thought her handsome: does she give him
out as still her suitor?”
“She says she might marry him any day: he only waits her consent.”
“It is these tales which have caused that reserve in your manner
towards Graham which your father noticed.”
“They have certainly made me all doubtful about his character. As
Ginevra speaks, they do not carry with them the sound of unmixed truth:
I believe she exaggerates—perhaps invents—but I want to know how far.”
“Suppose we bring Miss Fanshawe to some proof. Give her an opportunity
of displaying the power she boasts.”
“I could do that to-morrow. Papa has asked some gentlemen to dinner,
all savants. Graham, who, papa is beginning to discover, is a savant,
too—skilled, they say, in more than one branch of science—is among the
number. Now I should be miserable to sit at table unsupported, amidst
such a party. I could not talk to Messieurs A—— and Z——, the Parisian
Academicians: all my new credit for manner would be put in peril. You
and Mrs. Bretton must come for my sake; Ginevra, at a word, will join
you.”
“Yes; then I will carry a message of invitation, and she shall have the
chance of justifying her character for veracity.”
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE HÔTEL CRÉCY.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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