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Updated: June 9, 2025
Killigrew declined to labour with the rest; he set up his easel and did several little sketches, nearly all of Judy, whose dark head showed against the grey-gold background of the field with a greater distinction than the pale chignons of Blanche and Vassie or the indeterminate locks of Phoebe.
Phoebe's peculiar allure of utter softness was not one that could remain unfelt even among the slow and primitive young men she met day by day, or who gazed at her dewy mouth and eyes in the church which, for the sake of the vision, they attended instead of chapel. Vassie, who was really a beauty, they only feared.
She's gwain to be 'ansome, white as a lily she is, and it'll be better for she if she do have things to think of like the gentry. For if Ishmael's gentry, there's no rason Vassie shoulden be. They'm the same blood after all. An' it's dangerous blood, Mr. Boase." The Parson sat for a moment in silence while John-James shifted his feet anxiously.
As to Vassie, she was occupied with wondering whether the passionate yet careless caresses that Killigrew had lavished on her that afternoon "meant anything" or not. He had told her that in France they always said that "love was an affair of the skin...." And she knew she had a perfect skin.
Nicky had inherited from older sources, he reflected, a flamboyance such as Vassie and Archelaus and, in his underhand way, even Tom possessed, but that had missed himself. Killigrew and the others were coming over to supper, and the Parson also was expected.
It ceased to twinge when Vassie came down, her husband with her, to pay him a visit partly because, he guessed, it was to see that all was being done for the baby's welfare in such a masculine house that she had come. Vassie was resplendent, and if she did not love her husband ecstatically she was intensely proud of him.
Vassie, with a fulness that was so much more supple to a casual glance, yet followed her less beautifully. "Still, a lot can be done with her," thought Blanche, watching. She motioned to her to come and help her with a row that had not yet been gathered into a bundle, and Vassie stooped over it with her.
Vassie tilted a superior nose and in the intervals tried to impress Archelaus by the remarkable progress of his family during his absence; but Phoebe, who had planned for Ishmael, fluttered all spontaneously for Archelaus. It seemed to her that he was like a demi-god as he sat there, thrusting the food into his mouth, golden beard dripping with golden cider, careless limbs outflung.
Killigrew clapped his hands in approbation and Vassie feigned interest. "What a life!" exclaimed Killigrew; "if we do have to live again in the form of animals, I hope I shall be a bird, a sea-bird for choice. Just imagine being a gull or a gannet.... I wish one could paint the pattern they make in the air as they fly a vast invisible web of curves, all of them pure beauty."
Both she in her "artistic" way and Judy in her quiet smartness were very different from the women Ishmael had been seeing of late years the dowdy county ladies or Vassie in her splendid flamboyance.
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