Jilted Read Free Page B

than sublimated by panting after the adventurous march of virtue in the historic page.
    ‘If I ever find that he was not joining the army but just lookingfor an excuse, I’ll kill him with my bare hands!’ She declared savagely.
     
    The following morning, she woke up with a start, having eventually fallen asleep after having heard the clock in the hall chime four. It took her a moment or two to recall the events of the previous day. Then the humiliation of what had happened swept over her once again. How could he have done it, and in such a way? Even a letter sent to the house to arrive before they had started for the church would have been better than that. Before she could start brooding in good and earnest, she rang her bell and asked Trixie to bring her hot chocolate, and some water for washing.
    What a very peculiar day, she thought to herself as she dressed. It was a day that should not have happened – at least, not in this form. She should have begun this day as Mrs Morrison Morrison. Yet here she was, still Miss Hope. What should she do now? A week ago, her days had been packed with fittings, last minute visits, sending and receiving letters and opening gifts. Now, she supposed that she would have to undertake all the various tasks involved in informing people that the wedding had not taken place. Then she would settle down again to being Miss Hope, 22, unwed, unsought, and now tainted with scandal.
    As she had expected, she breakfasted alone. Her mother never ate breakfast and seldom appeared before eleven o’clock. Her father would have eaten long since and gone for his morning ride. The last time that she had accompanied him had been three days ago. She sighed. Although she had slept poorly, she could almost wish that she had gone with him. It would at least have given the day some semblance of normality.
    Very conscious of the sympathetic gaze of the servant who waited upon her, Eustacia ate her breakfast of toast and marmalade, drank some coffee, and forced herself to read the paper which her father had left behind him. In it, she read about the latest excesses taking place in France as the revolution there proceeded on its bloody path. If she did not follow the stories therein with quite her usual attention, the exercise did at least havethe effect of reminding her that there were other things going on in the world apart from her own woes.
    Arming herself with these thoughts, she determined to begin packing any gifts that she had received so that they could be returned to the donors. She had also intended to write a short letter to go with each gift, but this small task proved to be far more time-consuming than she had expected. She simply could not think what to put. ‘My fiancé has thought better of it’, seemed to be the most honest thing to say, but she could not bring herself to write it. It made her sound so second rate. In the end, she contented herself with a brief note in the third person stating that the marriage between Miss Hope and Mr Morrison would not now take place for private reasons, and thanking the donor for his or her kindness in remembering them.
    She was saved from further reverie by the entrance of her mother. Lady Hope was clad in peach and cream and looking as delectable as always. If Eustacia closed her eyes, she could picture the fatuous expression that had adorned Morrison’s features as he had looked at her elegant mother. Every man of their acquaintance , apart from Sir Wilfred, seemed to lose half his wits when her mother was about.
    Before she had become engaged to Morrison, she had gone with her parents to visit Harrogate. There, they had attended a number of assemblies, where a handsome gentleman had seemed to be very smitten with her. It was only after she had admitted to herself that she was beginning to like him very much, that she had discovered he had only pursued her so that he could get close to her mother. Remembering that humiliation, and adding it to the