But for Mary to be a
Countess, and for Lesbia to remain Lesbia Haselden, a nobody, dependent
upon the caprices of a grandmother whose means might after all be but
limited--no, such a concatenation as that was not to be endured. Lesbia
told herself that she could not go back to Fellside to remain there
indefinitely, a spinster and a dependent. She had learnt the true value
of money; she had found out what the world was like; and it seemed to
her that some such person as Mr. Smithson was essential to her
existence, just as a butler is a necessity in a house. One may not like
the man, but the post must be filled.
Again, if she were to throw over Mr. Smithson, and speculate upon her
chances of next year, what hope had she of doing better in her second
season than in her first? The horizon was blank. There was no great
_parti_ likely to offer himself for competition. She had seen all that
the market could produce. Wealthy bachelors, high-born lovers, could not
drop from the moon. Lesbia, schooled by Lady Kirkbank, knew her peerage
by heart; and she knew that, having missed Lord Hartfield, there was
really no one in the Blue Book worth waiting for.
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