One of Our Conquerors - World eBook Library

One of Our Conquerors
to wither men, when she speaks of their injustice, their snares
to mislead and their cruelty when they have succeeded. She
is right, it is the—brute: there is no other word.’
‘And French and good!’ Mrs. Marsett ejaculated. ‘My Ned
reads French novels, and he says, their women … . But your
mademoiselle is a real one. If she says all that, I could kneel
to her, French or not. Does she talk much about men and
women?’
‘Not often: we lose our tempers. She wants women to have
professions; at present they have not much choice to avoid
being penniless. Poverty, and the sight of luxury! It seems as
if we produced the situation, to create an envious thirst, and
cause the misery. Things are improving for them; but we
groan at the slowness of it.’
Mrs. Marsett now declared a belief, that women were nearly
quite as bad as men. ‘I don’t think I could take up with a
profession. Unless to be a singer. Ah! Do you sing?’
Nesta smiled: ‘Yes, I sing.’
‘How I should like to hear you! My Ned’s a thorough Englishman—gentleman,
you know: he cares only for sport;
Shooting, Fishing, Hunting; and Football, Cricket, Rowing,
and matches. He’s immensely proud of England in those
things. And such muscle he has! though he begins to fancy
his heart’s rather weak. It’s digestion, I tell him. But he takes
me to the Opera sometimes—Italian Opera; he can’t stand
German. Down at his place in Leicestershire, he tells me,
when there ‘s company, he has—I’m sure you sing beautifully.
When I hear beautiful singing, even from a woman
they tell tales of, upon my word, it’s true, I feel my sins all
melting out of me and I’m new-made: I can’t bear Ned to
speak. Would you one day, one afternoon, before the end of
next week?—it would do me such real good, you can’t guess
how much; if I could persuade you! I know I’m asking something
out of rules. For just half an hour: I judge by your
voice in talking. Oh! it would do me good-good-good to
hear you sing. There is a tuned piano—a cottage; I don’t
think it sounds badly. You would not see any great harm in
calling on me? once!’
‘No,’ said Nesta. And it was her nature that projected the
word. Her awakened wits were travelling to her from a distance,
and she had an intimation of their tidings; and she
could not have said what they were; or why, for a moment,
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