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Updated: May 21, 2025
I knew her better. 'And it was you who hatched the plot, I think, said Brian. Miss Rylance had not been prepared to admit as much. She intended Bessie to bear whatever blame there might be attached to the escapade in Mr. Wendover's mind; but it seemed from this remark of his that Bessie had betrayed her. 'I may have thrown out the idea when your cousin suddenly appeared upon the scene.
With features so correctly modelled, and a complexion so delicately tinted, Miss Rylance ought to have been lovely. But she had escaped loveliness by a long way. There was something wanting, and that something was very big. 'Good gracious, yes; I've seen dozens of barmaids, answered Bessie Wendover, with her frank voice. 'Do you suppose I've never been into an hotel, or even into a tavern?
She made her way to the nearest door, and went away without a word to the crowd of younger girls, her own pupils, who had crowded round to congratulate and caress her. She was adored by these small people, and it was her personal influence as much as her talent which made her so successful a teacher. Dr. Rylance followed her to the door with his eyes.
This was Dr. Mallison, of Harley Street, a great authority in all nervous disorders as thorough and as real a man as Dr. Rylance was artificial and shallow, yet a, man whom some of Dr. Rylance's most profitable patients denounced as a brute. Dr.
'But that only makes two. Who is your third? asked Bessie. 'Dr. Rylance. 'Dr. Rylance an eligible? cried Bessie, with girlhood's frank laughter at the absurd idea of middle age coming into the market to bid for youth. 'Why, auntie, the man must be fifty. 'Five-and-forty at most, and very young-looking for his age; very polished, very well off.
Rylance decided that this girl was incorrigible: she was beyond the pale: she was a kind of monster, a being of imperfect development, a blunder of nature like the sloth and his fellow tardigrades: a psychological mystery: inasmuch as she did not care for him. So having made up his mind to have done with her, Dr. Rylance found that the end of love is the beginning of hate.
'Modern young ladies are not easily crushed, remarked Miss Rylance; 'they make marrying for money a profession. 'Is that your idea of life? asked Ida. 'No; but I understand it is yours. I heard you say you meant to marry for money. 'Then you must have been listening to a conversation in which you had no concern, Ida answered coolly. 'I never said as much to you.
'That is the correct thing to say upon such occasions, answered Dr. Rylance, coldly; 'I wonder the sentence is not written in your copy books, among those moral aphorisms which are of so little use in after life.
I don't think she'll care about showing herself at the Grange in her old clothes and her three pairs of stockings, one on, one off, and one at the laundress's, said Miss Rylance, winding up with a viperish little laugh as if she had said something witty. She had a certain influence with Bessie, whom she had known all her life.
You will go, of course, Aunt Betsy? and Bessie must come; and I suppose we ought to invite Miss Rylance. She has joined in most of our excursions, and it would be invidious to leave her out of this. And I dare-say Bessie would think the whole thing flat without Mr. Jardine? 'It's very kind of you to think of him; but I don't believe he'll be able to spare the day, said Bessie.
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