PublicBookshelf Book Club
Weekly tips on great novels to read.
"Oh, Crow, dear, what are we to do, then?" said Lady Anningford.
"Surely, surely you don't anticipate any sudden catastrophe? In these
days people never run away--"
"No," said the Crow. "They stay at home until the footman, or the man's
last mistress, or the woman's dearest friend, send anonymous letters to
"Well, I tell you, Queen Anne, to me this appears serious. I know Hector
pretty well, and I have never seen him as far gone as this before. The
woman--she is a mere child--looks as unsophisticated as a baby, and
probably is. She won't have the least idea of managing the affair. She
will tumble headlong into it."
"Well, what is to be done, then?" exclaimed Anne, piteously.
"You had better talk to him quietly. He is very fond of you. Though
nothing, I am afraid, will be of the least use," said the Crow.
"But if she is going into the country they won't meet," reasoned Anne.
"You saw the dreadful-looking husband just now. Will he be the colonial
who will object, do you think, or the English snob who won't?"
But the Crow refused to give any more opinions except in general.
It all came, he said, from the ridiculous marriage laws in this
over-civilized country. Why should not people eminently suited to each
other be allowed to be happy?