DOI Artikel:
Gissing, George: The foolish virgin
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.27811#0019
By George Gissing 15
And—what is the use of boarding-houses if not to renew indefi-
nitely the hope of marriage ?
She was not of the base order of women. Conscience yet lived
in her, and drew support from religion ; something of modesty,
of self-respect, still clad her starving soul. Ignorance and ill-luck
had once or twice thrown her into such society as may be found
in establishments outwardly respectable ; she trembled and fled.
Even in such a house as this of Mrs. Banting's, she had known
sickness of disgust. Herself included, four single women abode
here at the present time ; and the scarcely disguised purpose of
every one of them was to entrap a marriageable man. In the
others, it seemed to her detestable, and she hated all three, even as
they in their turn detested her. Rosamund flattered herself with
the persuasion that she did not aim merely at marriage and a sub-
sistence ; she would not marry one ; her desire was for sym-
pathy, true companionship. In years gone by she had used to
herself a more sacred word ; nowadays the homely solace seemed
enough. And of late a ray of hope had glimmered upon her dusty
path. Mr. Cheeseman, with his plausible airs, his engaging smile,
had won something more than her confidence ; an acquaintance
of six months, ripening at length to intimacy, justified her in
regarding him with sanguine emotion. They had walked toge-
ther in Kensington Gardens; they had exchanged furtive and
significant glances at table and elsewhere ; every one grew aware
of the mutual preference. It shook her with a painful misgiving
when Mr. Cheeseman went away for his holiday and spoke no
word ; but probably he would write. He had written—to his
friend Drake ; and all was over.
Her affections suffered, but that was not the worst. Her pride
had never received so cruel a blow.
After a life of degradation which might well have unsexed her,
Rosamund
And—what is the use of boarding-houses if not to renew indefi-
nitely the hope of marriage ?
She was not of the base order of women. Conscience yet lived
in her, and drew support from religion ; something of modesty,
of self-respect, still clad her starving soul. Ignorance and ill-luck
had once or twice thrown her into such society as may be found
in establishments outwardly respectable ; she trembled and fled.
Even in such a house as this of Mrs. Banting's, she had known
sickness of disgust. Herself included, four single women abode
here at the present time ; and the scarcely disguised purpose of
every one of them was to entrap a marriageable man. In the
others, it seemed to her detestable, and she hated all three, even as
they in their turn detested her. Rosamund flattered herself with
the persuasion that she did not aim merely at marriage and a sub-
sistence ; she would not marry one ; her desire was for sym-
pathy, true companionship. In years gone by she had used to
herself a more sacred word ; nowadays the homely solace seemed
enough. And of late a ray of hope had glimmered upon her dusty
path. Mr. Cheeseman, with his plausible airs, his engaging smile,
had won something more than her confidence ; an acquaintance
of six months, ripening at length to intimacy, justified her in
regarding him with sanguine emotion. They had walked toge-
ther in Kensington Gardens; they had exchanged furtive and
significant glances at table and elsewhere ; every one grew aware
of the mutual preference. It shook her with a painful misgiving
when Mr. Cheeseman went away for his holiday and spoke no
word ; but probably he would write. He had written—to his
friend Drake ; and all was over.
Her affections suffered, but that was not the worst. Her pride
had never received so cruel a blow.
After a life of degradation which might well have unsexed her,
Rosamund