Female friendship -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction
“Oh, nonsense; you can’t desert me at the last moment. If I can’t get
that day off to run down to the New Forest, I shall have to go to a
tiresome political luncheon party. Now, be patriotic, and serve your
country by attending to the needs of one of her harassed Ministers.”
“I am always patriotic.”
“Then that settles it. I suppose I’d better not call for you. I’ll pick
you up at South Kensington Station at 9.30. Peter will make an
excellent chaperone, so you needn’t worry—good-bye”; and he rang off,
leaving Hal to hang up the receiver, not quite sure whether she had
been trapped or not.
At his end he moved across to a window with the smile still lingering
on his face.
“Nothing like making up a woman’s mind for her,” he mused; “they’re all
alike when they are on the edge of the stream, hesitating about the
plunge. Give ’em a little shove, and once they’re in they swim out
boldly enough. The trouble is, when they want to keep the whole river
for themselves and will not brook any other swimmers.
“I expect I’m going to have a devil of a time with Gladys, and she’ll
take a lot of squaring. Women are the deuce when you’re short of funds.
But I can’t help being susceptible, and Hal has caught my fancy
altogether. Dear little girl, I expect she’ll want a big shove yet
before she’ll take the real plunge. But it’s interesting, by Jove! it’s
interesting; and when she looks a veiled defiance at me with those
candid, mischievous eyes of hers, I know I’ve got to win somehow.”
Hal went back to her work, feeling a little as if she had been swept
off her feet; and she was not entirely without misgivings. The possible
impropriety of going out alone with a man for the whole day did not
trouble her, but the nature of the man, she was shrewd enough to
perceive, was a doubtful point.
Of course she was perfectly aware that Aunt Judith, for instance, and
Dudley, and probably her mother, had she been alive, would have been
scandalised at such a proceeding; but then she had pluckily fended for
herself so long, she did not consider she was any longer called upon to
mould her actions according to their views. She belonged to the large
army of women who have to spend so much of their time on office chairs
that their comparatively few hours of pleasure have no room for the
ordinary conventions that hem round the leisured, home-walled maiden.
If a treat offered, and it was reasonably within bounds, they took it
and were thankful and gave no thought to the possibly uplifted hands of
horror among possibly restricted relatives. She was one of those who
enjoy the freedom of the American girl, without being of those who,
unfortunately, often fall short of her level-headed characteristics;
largely perhaps through those very uplifted hands which suggest harm,
where harm otherwise might never have been thought of.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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