The Gay Lord Quex Part 4

Miss Fullgarney--!

SOPHY.

[_After a cautious glance round._] You know, Mr. Valma, I was always a self-willed, independent sort of a girl--a handful, they used to call me; and when father died I determined to have done with my step-mother, and to come to London at any price. I was seventeen then.

POLLITT.

Yes?

SOPHY.

Oh, it's nothing to be ashamed of, really; still, I did begin life in town--[_with an uneasy little laugh and a toss of the head_]--you'd hardly believe it!--as a nursery-maid.

POLLITT.

H'm! I am aware that is not considered--

SOPHY.

I should think not! Oh, of course, in time I rose to be Useful Maid, and then Maid. I've been lady's-maid in some excellent houses. And when I got sick of maiding I went to Dundas's opposite, and served three years at the hairdressing; that's an extremely refined position, I needn't say. And then some kind friends routed me out, [_surveying the room proudly_] and put me into this.

POLLITT.

Then why bestow a second thought upon your beginnings?

SOPHY.

No, I suppose I oughtn't to. n.o.body can breathe a word against my respectability. All the same, I am quite aware that it mightn't be over pleasant for a gentleman to remember that his wife was once--[_sitting in the screen-chair_] well, a servant.

POLLITT.

[_By her chair._] It would not weigh on my mind if you had been kitchen-maid [_pointing out of the window_] at Fletcher's Hotel.

[_Looking about him._] It's this business I don't care for.

SOPHY.

This business!

POLLITT.

For _you_. If you did no more than glide about your rooms, superintending your young ladies! [_Sitting, facing her._] But I hate the idea of your sitting here, or there, holding some man's hand in yours!

SOPHY.

[_Suddenly ablaze._] Do you! [_Pointing out of the window._] Yet you sit there, day after day, and hold women's hands in yours!

POLLITT.

[_Eagerly._] You are jealous of me?

SOPHY.

[_Panting._] A little.

POLLITT.

[_Going down upon one knee._] Ah, you do love me!

SOPHY.

[_Faintly._] Fondly.

POLLITT.

And you will be my wife?

SOPHY.

Yes.

POLLITT.

[_Embracing her._] My dearest!

SOPHY.

Not yet! suppose the girls saw you!

POLLITT.

Let all the world see us!

SOPHY.

[_Submissively, laying her cheek upon his brow._] Oh, but I wish--and yet I don't wish--

POLLITT.

What?

SOPHY.

That you were not so much my superior in every way.

POLLITT.

[_In an altered voice._] Sophy.