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Updated: June 12, 2025
There was a general feeling that Mrs. Wilson's marriage was to be held accountable for many of her eccentricities; although, as Mrs. Staggchase remarked, if Elsie Dimmont had not been what she was she would not have chosen Chauncy Wilson.
"But, nowadays," she returned, "the girls are so sophisticated that what we say makes no difference." There was a moment of silence while the servant changed the plates, and then Miss Dimmont broke out, saying, with unnecessary force, "I don't care who people are if they only amuse me, and I'll know anybody I like, whether they had any grandfathers or not." "Since when?"
At this point Miss Dimmont gave a cough which had a sound strangely like a laugh strangled at its birth. "The poem is one so subtile," Fenton continued, unmoved; "it is so clever in its knowledge of human nature, that I always have to take a certain time after reading it to get myself out of the mood of merely admiring its technique, before I can think of it critically at all.
"One never knows undesirable people, my dear," Mrs. Staggchase responded, without the faintest shadow of the sarcastic intent which her guest yet secretly felt in her words. "Bless me!" broke in Elsie Dimmont, with characteristic explosiveness. "What an abandoned creature I must be! I am actually going to the Fenton's to dine to-night." "Mr. Fenton," Mrs.
Well-born, wealthy, pretty, and not without a certain cleverness, Miss Dimmont had had choice of suitors enough who were all that the most exacting of her relatives could desire; yet she had disregarded the conviction of the family that it was her duty to marry to please them, and had chosen to please herself by selecting a handsome young doctor whom she met at the house of a cousin in the country.
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