They're like the villayns in the plays--always so dee-lightfully
vicked."
Oh, the sickening horror of it all! Whether it was really moral
corruption or only affectation and pose, it seemed equally shocking, and
though I bore as much of it as I could with a cheerful face, I escaped
as often as possible to the clean atmosphere of my own room.
But even there I was not always allowed to be alone, for Alma's mother
frequently followed me. She was a plump little person in a profuse
ornamentation of diamond rings and brooches, with little or no
education, and a reputation for saying risky things in blundering French
whereof the principal humour lay in the uncertainty as to whether she
knew their meaning or not.
Nevertheless she was the only good-hearted woman in the house, and I
really believe she thought she was doing a kind act in keeping me
company. But oh, how I suffered from her long accounts of her former
"visits" to my house, whereby I learned, without wishing to, what her
origin had been (the daughter of a London postman); what position she
had held in Castle Raa in her winsome and reckless youth (one that need
not be defined); how she had met her husband in New York and he had
married her to save the reputation of his child; and finally how the
American ladies of society had refused to receive her, and she had vowed
to be revenged on them by marrying Alma to the highest title in Europe
that could be bought with money.
Pages:
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492