" She told
herself she hated the whole affectation of breeding and chivalry. Those
men--Lewis and his friends--were always kind and soft-spoken to her and
her sex. Her soul hated it; she cried aloud for equal treatment, for a
share of the iron and rigour of life. Their manners were a mere cloak
for contempt. If they could only be rude to a woman, it would be a
welcome relief from this facile condescension. What had she or any
woman with brains to do in that galley? They despised her kind, with
the scorn of sultans who chose their women-folk for looks and graces.
The thought was degrading, and a bitterness filled her heart against the
whole clique of easy aristocrats. Mr. Stocks was her true ally. To
him she was a woman, an equal; to them she was an engaging child, a
delicate toy.
So far she went in her heresy, but no farther. It is a true saying that
you will find twenty heroic women before you may meet one generous one;
but Alice was not wholly without this rarest of qualities. The memory
of a frank voice, very honest grey eyes, and a robust cheerfulness
brought back some affection for the erring Lewis. The problem was
beyond her reconciling efforts, so the poor girl, torn between common
sense and feeling, and recognizing with painful clearness the complexity
of life, found refuge in secret tears.
III
The honours of the contest, so far as Lewis's party was concerned, fell
to George Winterham, and this was the fashion of the event.
Pages:
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124