‘I hate that girl like poison!’ said Miss
Demolines, confidentially, drawing herself very near
to Johnny as she spoke.
‘But what has she done?’
’What has she done? I can’t tell
you what she has done. I could not demean myself
by repeating it. Of course we all know what she
wants. She wants to catch Conway Dalrymple.
That’s as plain as anything can be. Not
that I care about that.’
‘Of course not,’ said Johnny.
’Not in the least. It’s nothing
to me. I have known Conway Dalrymple, no doubt,
for a year or two, and I should be sorry to see a young
man who has his good points sacrificed in that sort
of way. But it is mere acquaintance between Mr
Dalrymple and me, and of course I cannot interfere.’
‘She’ll have a lot of money, you know.’
’He thinks so; does he? I suppose that
is what Maria has told him. Oh, Mr Eames, you
don’t know the meanness of women; you don’t
indeed. Men are so much more noble.’
‘Are they, do you think?’
’Than some women. I see women doing things
that really disgust me; I do indeed;—things
that I wouldn’t do myself, were it ever so;—striving
to catch men in every possible way, and for such purposes!
I wouldn’t have believed it of Maria Clutterbuck.
I wouldn’t indeed. However I will never
say a word against her, because she has been my friend.
Nothing shall ever induce me.’
John Eames before he left Porchester Terrace, had
at last succeeded in calling his fair friend Madalina,
and had promised that he would endeavour to open the
artist’s eyes to the folly of painting his picture
in Broughton’s house without Broughton’s
knowledge.
MR TOOGOOD’S IDEAS ABOUT SOCIETY
A day or two after the interview which was described
in the last chapter John Eames dined with his uncle
Mr Thomas Toogood, in Tavistock Square. He was
in the habit of doing this about once a month, and
was a great favourite both with his cousins and with
their mother. Mr Toogood did not give dinner-parties;
always begging those whom he asked to enjoy his hospitality,
to take pot luck, and telling young men whom he could
treat with familiarity—such as his nephew—that
if they wanted to be regaled a la Russe they must
not come to Number 75 Tavistock Square. ’A
leg of mutton and trimmings; that will be about the
outside of it,’ he would say; but he would add
in a whisper—’and a glass of port
such as you don’t get every day of your life.’
Polly and Lucy Toogood were pretty girls, and merry
withal, and certain young men were well contented to
accept the attorney’s invitation—whether
attracted by the promised leg of mutton, or the port
wine, or the young ladies, I will not attempt to say.
But it had so happened that one young man, a clerk
from John Eames’s office, had partaken so often
of the put luck and port wine that Polly Toogood had
conquered him by her charms, and he was now a slave,
