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Updated: June 25, 2025
Corinna laughed with frank pleasure. "There are a million who would prefer the pumpkin to the pomegranate," she answered. "Rose Stribling, you must admit, is the type that has been the desire of the world since Venus first rose from the foam." "Can you imagine Mrs. Stribling rising from foam?" Stephen retorted impertinently.
It makes you look like a page of the Italian Renaissance." "Do you really like it?" asked Patty, and her voice trembled with pleasure. "Father hates it, but men never know." Corinna laughed. "Not much more about fashions than they know about women." "And that isn't anything, is it?" "Well, perhaps they'll learn some day by the time I am dead and you are old.
A generation ago they would have spelt an end of my conquests; to-day they mean only new worlds to conquer." The Judge looked perplexed. "Am I to infer from this that you have designs on the Governor? And may I inquire what use you intend to make of him after you have captured him from the enemy?" Corinna shrugged her shoulders. "I hadn't thought of that. Release him, probably.
As they went by, a woman, who was feeding the squirrels from one of the benches, lifted her face to stare at them curiously, and something vaguely familiar in her features caused Corinna to pause and glance back. Where had she seen her before? And how ill, how hopelessly stricken, the haggard face looked under the thick mass of badly dyed hair.
What was there about this girl, Corinna asked herself, which appealed so strongly to the protective impulse in her heart? Was it because this undisciplined child, with that curious sporting instinct which supplied the place of Victorian morality, represented for her, as well as for Stephen, some inarticulate longing for the unknown, for the adventurous?
Benham, looking at him closely, thought, "He must be well over eighty, but he hasn't changed so much as a hair of his head in the last twenty years." At dinner Corinna was very gay; and her father, whose habit it was not to inquire too deeply, observed only that she was looking remarkably well.
"Of course I know you are making him take her when he would rather a hundred times go with Patty Vetch." The frown on Mrs. Culpeper's face turned to a look of panic. "Mary Byrd, you are impossible," she said sternly. "I saw Cousin Corinna yesterday," observed Victoria indiscreetly. "She is going to take Patty Vetch." Mrs. Culpeper said nothing, but her fine black brows drew ominously together.
"Your marriage must have been a disappointment to you," she said, "but you were so brave, poor dear, that nobody suspected it until you were separated." "I am not a poor dear," retorted Corinna, "and there were a great many things in life for me besides marriage." "There wouldn't have been in my place," insisted Alice, with a submissive manner but a stubborn mind.
This time it was impossible for Corinna to suppress her amusement, and it broke out in a laugh that was like the chiming of silver bells. Oh, if only Cousin Harriet could hear him! Then observing the gravity of Vetch's expression, she checked her untimely mirth with an effort. "That depends, I suppose. At his age how can any one tell?"
One day she sent a poem entitled Sappho and signed Corinna to the Illustrated Newspaper. With a beating heart she went out to post the letter herself, and as it dropped into the pillarbox, she prayed softly to "God." A trying fortnight ensued. She ate nothing, hardly closed her eyes, and spent her days in solitude.
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