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Updated: June 10, 2025
No wise man expects to be mercifully treated, when he is shut into a carriage with a mature single lady, inflamed by curiosity. I was not unprepared for Miss Jillgall when she alluded, for the second time, to the sad events which had happened in the house on the previous day and especially to the destruction by Mr. Gracedieu of the portrait of his wife.
If I belonged to the lowest order of the population, I might take the first stick I could find, and enjoy the luxury of giving Mrs. Tenbruggen a good beating. She literally haunts the house, encouraged, of course, by her wretched little dupe, Miss Jillgall. Only this morning, I tried what a broad hint would do toward suggesting that her visits had better come to an end. "Really, Mrs.
Thirdly, when Philip returned, depressed and sulky, I caught Miss Jillgall looking at him with interest and pity visible in her skinny face. What do these things mean? I am beginning to doubt everybody. Not one of them, Philip included, cares for me but I can frighten them, at any rate. Yesterday evening, I dropped on the floor as suddenly as if I had been shot: a fit of some sort.
I had only to tell them that I had arranged to walk to the farm. Lean, wiry, and impetuous, Miss Jillgall received my excuse with the sincerest approval of it, as a new idea. "Nothing could be more agreeable to me," she declared; "I have been a wonderful walker all my life." She turned to her friend. "We will go with him, my dear, won't we?" Mrs.
Miss Jillgall suspected that the cause was bad news from Mr. Philip Dunboyne, arriving by that morning's post. "If you will excuse the use of strong language by a lady," she said, "Helena looked perfectly devilish when she opened the letter. She rushed away, and locked herself up in her own shabby room. A serious obstacle, as I suspect, in the way of her marriage. Cheering, isn't it?"
Yes! the most fondly affectionate kiss that he had given me, for weeks past, was my reward for submitting to Mrs. Tenbruggen. She is old enough to be his mother, and almost as ugly as Miss Jillgall and she has made her interests his interests already! On the next day, I fully expected to receive a visit from Mrs. Tenbruggen. She knew better than that.
"Pray don't distress yourself," I began; "I am sure you are not to blame, Miss Jillgall " "Oh, don't!" "Don't what?" "Don't call me Miss Jillgall. I call you Helena. Call me Selina." I had really not supposed it possible that she could be more unendurable than ever. When she mentioned her Christian name, she succeeded nevertheless in producing that result.
I made another attempt. "And vile as Helena is," I continued, "we cannot deny that this disgrace to her sex is a handsome young lady." He saw it at last. "Woman's wit!" he cried. "You have hit it, Miss Jillgall. The young fool is smitten with her, and has given her a chance of making her escape." "Do you think she will take the chance?" "For all our sakes, I pray God she may!
This was another example of my sister's childish character; she is instantly familiar with new acquaintances, if she happens to like them. I anticipated some amusement from hearing how she had contrived to establish confidential relations with a highly-cultivated man like Mr. Dunboyne. But, while Miss Jillgall was with us, it was just as well to keep within the limits of commonplace conversation.
I saw a change to, what I call self-assertion, in my sister's manner; something seemed to have raised her in her own estimation. Then, again, Miss Jillgall was not like her customary self. She had delightful moments of silence; and when Eunice asked how I liked Mr.
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