' No insolence then,
mark you, Madame Hortense!"
"This demoiselle is none of your sort," Hortense said. "You must not judge
English ladies by your maids of honour. Celles la sont des drolesses, sans
foi ni loi."
"Well, if she thinks I am going to make up linsey woolsey, or Norwich
drugget, she will find her mistake. I never courted the custom of little
gentlemen's wives, with a hundred a year for pin-money. If I am to do
anything for this stuck-up peacock, Lady Fareham must give me the order. I
am no servant of Madame Kirkland."
* * * * *
Alone in the garden, the sisters embraced again, Lady Fareham with a
fretful tearfulness, as of one whose over strung nerves were on the verge
of hysteria.
"There is something that preys upon your spirits, dearest," Angela said
interrogatively.
"Something! A hundred things. I am at cross purposes with life. But I
should have been worse had you been obstinate and still refused this
gentleman."
"Why should that affect you, Hyacinth?" asked her sister, with a sudden
coldness.
"Chi lo sa? One has fancies! But my dearest sister has been wise in good
time, and you will be the happiest wife in England; for I believe your
Puritan is a saintly person, the very opposite of our Court sparks, who are
the most incorrigible villains.
Pages:
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594