Page 19 of My Brilliant Career

‘You infernal little vixen! What are you laughing at? You’ve got no more sense than a bat if such a solemn thing only provokes your mirth.’

‘Solemn — why, it’s a screaming farce!’ I laughed more and more.

‘What’s a farce?’ he demanded fiercely.

‘The bare idea of you proposing to me.’

‘Why? Have I not as much right to propose as any other man?’

‘Man!’ I laughed. ‘That’s where the absurdity arises. My child, if you were a man, certainly you could propose, but do you think I’d look at a boy, a child! If ever I perpetrate matrimony the participant in my degradation will be a fully developed man — not a hobbledehoy who falls in love, as he terms it, on an average about twice a week. Love! Ho!’

I moved in the direction of the house. He barred my path.

‘You are not going to escape me like that, my fine lady. I will make you listen to me this time or you will hear more about it,’ and he seized me angrily by the wrist.

I cannot bear the touch of anyone — it is one of my idiosyncrasies. With my disengaged hand I struck him a vigorous blow on the nose, and wrenching myself free sprang away, saying, ‘How dare you lay a finger on me! If you attempt such a thing again I’ll make short work of you. Mark my words, or you’ll get something more than a bleeding nose next time, I promise you.’

‘You’ll hear more of this! You’ll hear more of this! You fierce, wild, touch-me-not thing,’ he roared.

‘Yes; my motto with men is touch-me-not, and it is your own fault if I’m fierce. If children attempt to act the role of a man with adult tools, they are sure to cut themselves. Hold hard a bit, honey, till your whiskers grow,’ I retorted as I departed, taking flying leaps over the blossom-burdened flower-beds.

At tea that night, after gazing interestedly at Mr Hawden’s nose for some time, uncle Julius inquired, ‘In the name of all that’s mysterious, what the devil have you been doing to your nose? You look as though you had been on the spree.’

I was quaking lest he would get me into a fine scrape, but he only muttered, ‘By Jove!’ with great energy, and glowered menacingly across the table at me.

After tea he requested an interview with grannie, which aroused my curiosity greatly. I was destined to hear all about it next morning. When breakfast was over grannie called me into her room and interviewed me about Mr Hawden’s interview. She began without any preliminaries:

‘Mr Hawden has complained of your conduct. It grieves me that any young man should have to speak to me of the behaviour of my own grand-daughter. He says you have been flirting with him. Sybylla, I scarcely thought you would be so immodest and unwomanly.’

On hearing this my thoughts of Frank Hawden were the reverse of flattering. He had persecuted me beyond measure, yet I had not deigned to complain of him to either uncle, grannie, or auntie, as I might reasonably have done, and have obtained immediate redress. He had been the one to blame in the case, yet for the rebuffs he had brought upon himself, went tattling to my grandmother.

‘Is that all you have to say, grannie?’

‘No. He wants to marry you, and has asked my consent. I told him it all rested with yourself and parents. What do you say?’

‘Say,’ I exclaimed, ‘grannie, you are only joking, are you not?’

‘No, my child, this is not a matter to joke about.’

‘Marry that creature! A boy!’ I uttered in consternation.

‘He is no boy. He has attained his majority some months. He is as old as your grandfather was when we married. In three years you will be almost twenty, and by that time he will be in possession of his property which is very good — in fact, he will be quite rich. If you care for him there is nothing against him as I can see. He is healthy, has a good character, and comes of a high family. Being a bit wild won’t matter. Very often, after they sow their wild oats, some of those scampy young fellows settle down and marry a nice young girl and turn out very good husbands.’

‘It is disgusting, and you ought to be downright ashamed of yourself, grannie! A man can live a life of bestiality and then be considered a fit husband for the youngest and purest girl! It is shameful! Frank Hawden is not wild, he hasn’t got enough in him to be so. I hate him. No, he hasn’t enough in him to hate. I loathe and despise him. I would not marry him or any one like him though he were King of England. The idea of marriage even with the best man in the world seems to me a lowering thing,’ I raged; ‘but with him it would be pollution — the lowest degradation that could be heaped upon me! I will never come down to marry any one —’ here I fell a victim to a flood of excited tears.

I felt there was no good in the world, especially in men — the hateful creatures! — and never would be while it was not expected of them, even by rigidly pure, true Christians such as my grandmother. Grannie, dear old grannie, thought I should marry any man who, from a financial point of view, was a good match for me. That is where the sting came in. No, I would never marry. I would procure some occupation in which I could tread my life out, independent of the degradation of marriage.

‘Dear me, child,’ said grannie, concernedly, ‘there is no need to distress yourself so. I remember you were always fearfully passionate. When I had you with me as a tiny toddler, you would fret a whole day about a thing an ordinary child would forget inside an hour. I will tell Hawden to go about his business. I would not want you to consider marriage for an instant with anyone distasteful to you. But tell me truly, have you ever flirted with him? I will take your word, for I thank God you have never yet told me a falsehood!’

‘Grannie,’ I exclaimed emphatically, ‘I have discouraged him all I could. I would scorn to flirt with any man.’

‘Well, well, that is all I want to hear about it. Wash your eyes, and we will get our horses and go over to see Mrs Hickey and her baby, and take her something good to eat.’

I did not encounter Frank Hawden again till the afternoon, when he leered at me in a very triumphant manner. I stiffened myself and drew out of his way as though he had been some vile animal. At this treatment he whined, so I agreed to talk the matter over with him and have done with it once and for all.

He was on his way to water some dogs, so I accompanied him out to the stables near the kennels, to be out of hearing of the household.

I opened fire without any beating about the bush.