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Updated: September 16, 2025
... I know, cried Eugénie de Netteville at last, standing at bay before him, her hands locked before her, her white lips quivering, when her cup of shame was full, and her one impulse left was to strike the man who had humiliated her-'I know that you and your puritanical wife are miserable miserable.
Presently there was a pause, which she broke by saying 'I was at your lecture last Sunday you didn't see me! 'Were you? Ah! I remember a person in black, and veiled, who puzzled me. I don't think we want you there, Madame de Netteville. His look was pleasant, but his tone had some decision in it. 'Why not? Is it only the artisans who have souls? A reformer should refuse no one.
When the Elsmeres entered, there were about a dozen people present ten gentlemen and two ladies. One of the ladies, Madame de Netteville, was lying back in the corner of a velvet divan placed against the wall, a screen between her and a splendid fire that threw its blaze out into the room.
'Well, said Madame de Netteville to Robert, with a deep breath, 'that was a remark to have hurled at you all at once out of doors on a summer's afternoon! Oh, Mr. Spooner! she said, raising her voice, 'don't play the heretic here! There is no fun in it; there are too many with you. 'I did not begin it, my dear madam, and your reproach is unjust.
Eugénie de Netteville, poseuse, schemer, woman of the world that she was, was losing command of herself. 'What did you really mean by "worldliness" and the "world" in your lecture last Sunday? she asked him suddenly, with a little accent of scorn. 'I thought your diatribes absurd.
'Dear me! said Lady Aubrey, with meditative scorn, fanning herself lightly the while, her thin but extraordinarily graceful head and neck thrown out against the golden brocade of the cushion behind her. 'Oh! what so many of them feel in Renan's case, of course' said Madame de Netteville, 'is that every book he writes now gives a fresh opening to the enemy to blaspheme.
'Purely for talk, you see, not for show! said Madame de Netteville to Robert, with a little smiling nod round her circle as they stood waiting for the commencement of dinner. 'I shall hardly do my part, he said with a little sigh. 'I have just come from a very different scene. She looked at him with inquiring eyes. 'A terrible accident in the East End, he said briefly. 'We won't talk of it.
Madame de Netteville, meanwhile, was keeping up a conversation in an undertone with young Evershed, who had come to sit on a stool beside her, and was gazing up at her with eyes of which the expression was perfectly understood by several persons present. The handsome, dissipated, ill-conditioned youth had been her slave and shadow for the last two years.
The other, a slim woman with closely curled fair hair, and a neck abnormally long and white, sat near her, and the circle of men were talking indiscriminately to both. As the footman announced Mr. and Mrs. Elsmere, there was a general stir of surprise. The men looked round; Madame de Netteville half rose with a puzzled look. It was more than a month since she had dropped her invitation.
Since the war of 1870 Madame de Netteville had fixed her headquarters in London, and it was to her house in Hans Place that the Squire wrote to her about the Elsmeres. She owed Roger Wendover debts of various kinds, and she had an encouraging memory of the young clergyman on the terrace at Murewell.
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