The Hoyden
seeing the signs of agitation in the two
an come again," says she,
Mrs. Bethun
gesture as i
et. Pray stay, and give me a little
hat she must say, and Miss Knollys comes quickly to her. Marian Bet
debar her for ever from being called either pretty or beautiful; yet there have been many in her life-time who admired her, and three,
im, and ever since has refused all comers for his sake. Her face is long and utterly devoid of colour; her nose is too large; her mouth a trifle too firm for beauty; her eyes, dark and earnest, have, however, a singular fascination of their own, and when she smiles
ks she, looking at Lady Rylto
to the conversation. "About Maurice and this girl! This ne
quiet way. "Do you seriously mean," addressing
sire a daughter-in-law of no lineage, and with the most objectionab
you fancy," says Miss Knollys. "But for all that I s
ns back in her c
urice!" repeats she. "W
e are situated. You know how low we have fallen-you can understand that in thi
g steps. Instinctively the three women within the room grow silent and draw back a little. Barely in
you anything you like you couldn't. You may play me again if you w
open and every w
Mrs. Bethune, in a low voice, noddin
-a mere hoyden," says Lady Rylt
in effect "all over the place"-it is straight here, and wandering there; but perhaps its w
rs-none!" says La
mall creature on the terrace, having caught
nd smiling and beckoning to the girl with long fingers. "I hope you hav
es are
n over the window-sill. "Though Mr. Gower," glanc
says the stout young man. "It's
the truth!" says t
trary, it's general
lton, turning her back on him, which proceeding see
, dear child; you loo
still
er head. "Tennis is not so very
at all events," says Mrs. Bethune, with her quick smile. "I thi
Is it?"
h her pretty short locks, and gaze
he hair of a little girl. You," smiling, "are a littl
I shall win," says the stout young man; and, whils
her as a daughter. Fancy living with that girl! A silly child, with her hair
ice who will have to l
th
ot," says Mar
lton, turning to he
suited to each other. Maurice! and that baby! It is absurd! I sh
t, I hope you are not in love w
oo
t looks
Mrs. Bethune, with a
how desperately in l
says Miss Knolly
ys Mrs. Bethune, w
gitation, "that if Maurice doesn't marry this girl, th
barely knows her-and a
afest thi
ey are doing, were to marry, it might be different. They might risk a few years of mere friendship together, and be glad of
s Mrs. Bethune, with an amused air; "Mauric
ts, Tita is
s that h
hort for Titania; she i
nia's father dealt in buttons! Is it buttons, or soap, or ta
to be trade, I can't see that it ma
Mrs. Bethune. "Go on, Margaret-you were in the middl
at Miss Bolton i
e us month and day. It was very clever of her. We ought to give h
nteen, w
ays as a child of seventeen. There isn't time for it. It has gone out! The idea is entirely exploded. Perhaps there were children aged seve
rs. Bethune; her ton
but Margaret, casting a swift glance at Mrs. Bethune, wonders
wasn't in love with him." She pauses, and makes a little apologetic gesture with her fan and shoulders. "Horrid expression, isn't it?" says she. "In love! So terribly bourgeois. It ought to be done
clever," says Mrs. Bet
r, but is hardly sure whet
ys Lady Rylton meditatively.
is the word," s
seems to Margaret that she is
dy Rylton with a sigh and a prolonged sniff at he
ace at the end," says
y fear of his wife, and had never dared to contradict her on any subject, thou
r eyes behind the web of a handkerchief she is holding. One tea
ays Margaret
hat dreadful word! One should never mention death! It is so rude! He, your poo
nation," says Mrs. Beth
with it. But, for all that, Mrs. Bethune is clearly enjoying herself. She can
says Lady Rylton, pressing
might almost think h
ing her head with
king with supp
it," says Lady Rylton, still dabbing her eyes
one so happy," s
tion. She rises and goes to the window. The
o Margaret, "that a marriage based on friendship,
ase there was love on
tle impatientl
ands, her vanity so far overcoming her argument that she grows incon
eard it ad nauseam. "But with regard to this marriage, Tessi
aret. "This house-party that I have arranged, with this girl in it, is a last effort," says she in a low
says Margaret gently; "y
ad!" says Lady Rylton. "A
ly name," says Margare
"that it goes to my very soul to accept this girl as a daughter. She-she is hateful to me, not only because of her birth, but in every way. She is antagonistic to m
d you know you said yourself that at seve
Rylton resentfully. "There," sinking back in her chair, and saturating her handkerchief with some delicate essence fro
her future life for mere position. I mean," says Margaret a little sadly, "that
you like a fool," says
girl, rather, with se
ry of yours," says Lady Rylton, who can be singularly nasty at ti
story or no story, I shall always think that the woman who marries a man without caring
a shrug. "I am thinking of Maurice. This girl has money; and, of
altogether
" says Lady Ryl
s shrugs he
ne turns from the wind
is a sudden fu
d rage. "Who is she, that she should refuse him? That little, contemptible child! That nobody! I
die checked, killed by her own will. She sinks into the chair behind her, and looks deliberately at Margaret with
ent," says she; "he
ys Lady Rylton
horrent to her, and just now her heart is sad for the poor child who has been brought down here ostensibly for amusement, in reality for business. Of course, Maurice will not ma
ll of broken biscuits. The pulling up of the skirt conduces a good deal to the showing of a lovely little foot and ankle, and Margaret, who has the wo
We are going to feed the swans" (she looks back at her co
ocket's full of 'em, and they've gone to dust. I tried to blow my nos
ss Knollys-do," s
ittle troubled at heart. "Go, dear child, and feed the
uch solemnity; "but it's small-very small
lance and turns away. In truth, Mr. Go