door closed and then turned to her hostess.
“Dear Lady Payton, you are positively saintly, but I very much fear too innocent for this world.”
“Great heavens, Miss Gilbert—innocent—saintly? How very flattering, but I fear I must deny all halos.”
“Ah, there, you see? You’re not even aware of your own goodness in giving up the services of your maid for Sebastian’s—er—amusement. I fear it cannot be wise, however.”
“Not wise? Surely education cannot ever be termed unwise—nor amusement.”
“In its proper place, Lady Payton, certainly not. However, I cannot approve of too much education for the lower classes. They get ideas above their station and lose all respect for their betters.”
“I cannot feel that any amount of education would cause one to lose respect for those who are truly one’s betters, Miss Gilbert,” replied Lady Payton blandly.
Miss Gilbert was far too safe in her own feeling of superiority to read anything personal into this remark. Indeed, in pursuit of her real objective, she didn’t hear it. “Not to speak of the danger of placing a young girl in constant company with a man—”
“My dear Miss Gilbert, I really must protest,” Lady Payton interrupted sharply.
“Yes, yes, I know it is only poor, dear Sebastian,” Miss Gilbert rushed on heedlessly, “but he is a man nonetheless, and men, whatever their physical condition, are bedeviled by,” here her voice dropped to a horror-filled whisper, “ dreadful needs .”
In spite of her previous annoyance, a gleam of mischief replaced the angry light in Lady Payton’s eyes. Unable to resist the impulse, she leaned forward artlessly.
“Why, Miss Gilbert, do you tell me so!”
“Animals, all of them!”
“How shocking!” breathed Lady Payton, “I had never realized, Miss Gilbert, that you had experienced—”
Miss Gilbert reared back, her eyes nearly starting from their sockets. “Naturally I do not speak from personal experience, Lady Payton!” she gasped.
“Oh,” replied Lady Payton, allowing the word to convey disappointment, her lips twitching.
“But surely you cannot have thought—ah—I see—you are having your little joke with me.” Miss Gilbert attempted a smile. “Very amusing—how I envy you your sense of humour, dear lady. However, if you had seen, as I have, the results of men’s bestiality, you would find it difficult to see it as a matter for humour—young girls’ reputations besmirched, illegitimate babies—” Miss Gilbert’s face had flushed unbecomingly and she seemed to be having trouble with her breathing.
“But, Miss Gilbert, I really must protest! Surely you are not implying that Sebastian would take advantage of an innocent child?”
“Propinquity, Lady Payton! Propinquity! He is the soul of honour, of course, but two people of the opposite sex who are thrown into one another’s company day after day in this way will naturally take advantage. Such a situation would be bound to rouse a man’s baser instincts despite all his good intentions—that rosy young flesh, that full, red mouth—she would be bound to tempt—”
Miss Gilbert stopped abruptly, her glazed eyes refocusing to find Lady Payton staring at her with a look of fascinated revulsion. After only the briefest of pauses, however, she turned away and picked up the latest copy of La Belle Assemblée.
“Here is a biographical sketch of Lady Charlotte Duncombe, which I’m sure will interest you, Miss Gilbert. Your mother was acquainted with her father, the Earl of Dartmouth, was she not?”
Without waiting for a reply, Lady Payton began to read, careful to keep her voice bright and her eyes on the print before her, while Miss Gilbert sat as though turned to stone, the red slowly draining out of her face to leave it an unpleasant grayish-white.
“That old trout still with my mama?” growled Sebastian as Jane came dancing in from the September sunshine. She giggled explosively. “Oh, you’ve hit it
“Dear Lady Payton, you are positively saintly, but I very much fear too innocent for this world.”
“Great heavens, Miss Gilbert—innocent—saintly? How very flattering, but I fear I must deny all halos.”
“Ah, there, you see? You’re not even aware of your own goodness in giving up the services of your maid for Sebastian’s—er—amusement. I fear it cannot be wise, however.”
“Not wise? Surely education cannot ever be termed unwise—nor amusement.”
“In its proper place, Lady Payton, certainly not. However, I cannot approve of too much education for the lower classes. They get ideas above their station and lose all respect for their betters.”
“I cannot feel that any amount of education would cause one to lose respect for those who are truly one’s betters, Miss Gilbert,” replied Lady Payton blandly.
Miss Gilbert was far too safe in her own feeling of superiority to read anything personal into this remark. Indeed, in pursuit of her real objective, she didn’t hear it. “Not to speak of the danger of placing a young girl in constant company with a man—”
“My dear Miss Gilbert, I really must protest,” Lady Payton interrupted sharply.
“Yes, yes, I know it is only poor, dear Sebastian,” Miss Gilbert rushed on heedlessly, “but he is a man nonetheless, and men, whatever their physical condition, are bedeviled by,” here her voice dropped to a horror-filled whisper, “ dreadful needs .”
In spite of her previous annoyance, a gleam of mischief replaced the angry light in Lady Payton’s eyes. Unable to resist the impulse, she leaned forward artlessly.
“Why, Miss Gilbert, do you tell me so!”
“Animals, all of them!”
“How shocking!” breathed Lady Payton, “I had never realized, Miss Gilbert, that you had experienced—”
Miss Gilbert reared back, her eyes nearly starting from their sockets. “Naturally I do not speak from personal experience, Lady Payton!” she gasped.
“Oh,” replied Lady Payton, allowing the word to convey disappointment, her lips twitching.
“But surely you cannot have thought—ah—I see—you are having your little joke with me.” Miss Gilbert attempted a smile. “Very amusing—how I envy you your sense of humour, dear lady. However, if you had seen, as I have, the results of men’s bestiality, you would find it difficult to see it as a matter for humour—young girls’ reputations besmirched, illegitimate babies—” Miss Gilbert’s face had flushed unbecomingly and she seemed to be having trouble with her breathing.
“But, Miss Gilbert, I really must protest! Surely you are not implying that Sebastian would take advantage of an innocent child?”
“Propinquity, Lady Payton! Propinquity! He is the soul of honour, of course, but two people of the opposite sex who are thrown into one another’s company day after day in this way will naturally take advantage. Such a situation would be bound to rouse a man’s baser instincts despite all his good intentions—that rosy young flesh, that full, red mouth—she would be bound to tempt—”
Miss Gilbert stopped abruptly, her glazed eyes refocusing to find Lady Payton staring at her with a look of fascinated revulsion. After only the briefest of pauses, however, she turned away and picked up the latest copy of La Belle Assemblée.
“Here is a biographical sketch of Lady Charlotte Duncombe, which I’m sure will interest you, Miss Gilbert. Your mother was acquainted with her father, the Earl of Dartmouth, was she not?”
Without waiting for a reply, Lady Payton began to read, careful to keep her voice bright and her eyes on the print before her, while Miss Gilbert sat as though turned to stone, the red slowly draining out of her face to leave it an unpleasant grayish-white.
“That old trout still with my mama?” growled Sebastian as Jane came dancing in from the September sunshine. She giggled explosively. “Oh, you’ve hit it
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