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Updated: May 28, 2025
She had a theory that she was not herself, but what she would have liked to be. As to the one quality in which she had always felt superior to Agatha, and which she called "good breeding," Trefusis had so far destroyed her conceit in that, that she was beginning to doubt whether it was not her cardinal defect.
Instead of answering, he stood, after one startled glance at her, looking intently at the knuckle of his forefinger. "Do take pity on our poor sex," said Agatha maliciously. "You are so rich, and so very clever, and really so nice looking that you ought to share yourself with somebody. Gertrude would be only too happy." Trefusis grinned and shook his head, slowly but emphatically.
Her jealousy of these qualities was now barbed by the knowledge that they were much nearer akin than her own to those of Trefusis. It mattered little to her how she appeared to herself in comparison with Agatha. For she would not admit the justice of impressions made by what she did not intend to do, however habitually she did it.
The drive home restored him somewhat, but he wee still full of his surprise when he rejoined Agatha, his wife, and Erskine in the drawing-room at the Beeches. The moment he entered, he said without preface, "She has gone off with Trefusis." Erskine, who had been reading, started up, clutching his book as if about to hurl it at someone, and cried, "Was he at the train?"
If a woman wishes to honor her father and mother to their own satisfaction nowadays she must dishonor herself." "I do not understand why you should be so anxious for me to marry someone else?" "Someone else?" said Trefusis, puzzled. "I do not mean someone else," said Gertrude hastily, reddening. "Why should I marry at all?" "Why do any of us marry? Why do I marry?
"I was reading a story one of the Nosegay Novelettes; I do not know if you are familiar with the series, sir? in which much the same situation occurred. It was entitled 'Cupid or Mammon. The heroine, Lady Blanche Trefusis, forced by her parents to wed a wealthy suitor, despatches a note to her humble lover, informing him it cannot be. I believe it often happens like that, sir."
She wouldn't like it herself, and it doesn't seem seem respectful like to her Eric interrupted. He was conscious that his chance was not so good as Abel's in case Sarah should wish to choose between them: 'Are ye afraid of the hazard? 'Not me! said Abel, boldly. Mrs. Trefusis, seeing that her idea was beginning to work, followed up the advantage.
You will not be satisfied with yourself when your bishop hears of this. Yes," she added, turning to Trefusis with an infantile air of wanting to cry and being forced to laugh against her will, "you may laugh as much as you please don't trouble to pretend it's only coughing but we will write to his bishop, as he shall find to his cost."
"Why?" said Trefusis, apparently disapproving strongly of the renunciation. Sir Charles shrugged his shoulders and did not reply. "I am sorry to hear it. I wish you could induce him to change his mind. He is a nice fellow, with enough to live on comfortably, whilst he is yet what is called a poor man, so that she could feel perfectly disinterested in marrying him.
Erskine heard their footsteps retreating, and presently saw the two enter the glow of light that shone from the open window of the billiard room, through which they went indoors. Only a poet could do that. Trefusis was no poet, but a sordid brute unlikely to inspire interest in anything more human than a public meeting, much less in a woman, much less again in a woman so ethereal as Gertrude.
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