Her virgin fancy demands the
Tennysonian ideal, the grave and knightly Arthur.
But when Lesbia thought of the most worthy, it was always of the
worthiest in her own particular sphere; and he of course would be titled
and wealthy, and altogether fitted to be her husband. He would take her
by the hand and lead her to a higher seat on the dais, and place upon
her head, or at least upon her letter-paper and the panels of her
carriage, a coronet in which the strawberry leaves should stand out more
prominently than in her brother's emblazonment. Lesbia's mind could not
conceive an ignoble marriage, or the possibility of the most worthy
happening to be found in a lower circle than her own.
And now it was the end of July, and the season which should have been
glorified by Lady Lesbia's _debut_ was over and done with. She had read
in the society papers of all the balls, and birthdays, and race
meetings, and regattas, and cricket matches, and gowns, and parasols,
and bonnets--what this beauty wore on such an occasion, and how that
other beauty looked on another occasion--and she felt as she read like a
spell-bound princess in a fairy tale, mewed up in a battlemented tower,
and deprived of her legitimate share in all the pleasures of earth.
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