“Who says so?”
“Never mind who says so, but they tell me it’s
true. Take an old friend’s advice, and
strike while the iron’s hot.”
Phineas did not believe what he had heard, but though
he did not believe it, still the tidings set his heart
beating. He would have believed it less perhaps
had he known that Laurence had just received the news
from Mrs. Bonteen.
The Top Brick of the Chimney
Madame Max Goesler was a lady who knew that in fighting
the battles which fell to her lot, in arranging the
social difficulties which she found in her way, in
doing the work of the world which came to her share,
very much more care was necessary,—and care
too about things apparently trifling,—than
was demanded by the affairs of people in general.
And this was not the case so much on account of any
special disadvantage under which she laboured, as
because she was ambitious of doing the very uttermost
with those advantages which she possessed. Her
own birth had not been high, and that of her husband,
we may perhaps say, had been very low. He had
been old when she had married him, and she had had
little power of making any progress till he had left
her a widow. Then she found herself possessed
of money, certainly; of wit,—as she believed;
and of a something in her personal appearance which,
as she plainly told herself, she might perhaps palm
off upon the world as beauty. She was a woman
who did not flatter herself, who did not strongly
believe in herself, who could even bring herself to
wonder that men and women in high position should
condescend to notice such a one as her. With all
her ambition, there was a something of genuine humility
about her; and with all the hardness she had learned
there was a touch of womanly softness which would
sometimes obtrude itself upon her heart. When
she found a woman really kind to her, she would be
very kind in return. And though she prized wealth,
and knew that her money was her only rock of strength,
she could be lavish with it, as though it were dirt.
But she was highly ambitious, and she played her game
with great skill and great caution. Her doors
were not open to all callers;—were shut
even to some who find but few doors closed against
them;—were shut occasionally to those whom
she most specially wished to see within them.
She knew how to allure by denying, and to make the
gift rich by delaying it. We are told by the
Latin proverb that he who gives quickly gives twice;
but I say that she who gives quickly seldom gives
more than half. When in the early spring the
Duke of Omnium first knocked at Madame Max Goesler’s
door, he was informed that she was not at home.
The Duke felt very cross as he handed his card out
from his dark green brougham,—on the panel
of which there was no blazon to tell the owner’s
rank. He was very cross. She had told him
that she was always at home between four and six on
