"A dangerous and
designing
woman," purred Mrs.
Kipling - Poems
Bent to
understand that he had, during her absence in the Doon, been the victim
of unceasing persecution at the hands of Mrs. Delville, and he told the
tale so often and with such eloquence that he ended in believing it,
while his wife marvelled at the manners and customs of "some women. "
When the situation showed signs of languishing, Mrs. Waddy was always on
hand to wake the smouldering fires of suspicion in Mrs. Bent's bosom
and to contribute generally to the peace and comfort of the hotel. Mr.
Bent's life was not a happy one, for if Mrs. Waddy's story were true,
he was, argued his wife, untrustworthy to the last degree. If his own
statement was true, his charms of manner and conversation were so
great that he needed constant surveillance. And he received it, till
he repented genuinely of his marriage and neglected his personal
appearance. Mrs. Delville alone in the hotel was unchanged. She removed
her chair some six paces toward the head of the table, and occasionally
in the twilight ventured on timid overtures of friendship to Mrs. Bent,
which were repulsed.
"She does it for my sake," hinted the Virtuous Bent.
"A dangerous and designing woman," purred Mrs. Waddy.
Worst of all, every other hotel in Simla was full!
* * * * *
"Polly, are you afraid of diphtheria? "
"Of nothing in the world except smallpox. Diphtheria kills, but it
doesn't disfigure. Why do you ask? "
"Because the Bent baby has got it, and the whole hotel is upside down
in consequence. The Waddy has 'set her five young on the rail' and fled.
The Dancing Master fears for his precious throat, and that miserable
little woman, his wife, has no notion of what ought to be done. She
wanted to put it into a mustard bath--for croup! "
"Where did you learn all this? "
"Just now, on the Mall. Dr. Howlen told me. The Manager of the hotel
is abusing the Bents, and the Bents are abusing the manager.
understand that he had, during her absence in the Doon, been the victim
of unceasing persecution at the hands of Mrs. Delville, and he told the
tale so often and with such eloquence that he ended in believing it,
while his wife marvelled at the manners and customs of "some women. "
When the situation showed signs of languishing, Mrs. Waddy was always on
hand to wake the smouldering fires of suspicion in Mrs. Bent's bosom
and to contribute generally to the peace and comfort of the hotel. Mr.
Bent's life was not a happy one, for if Mrs. Waddy's story were true,
he was, argued his wife, untrustworthy to the last degree. If his own
statement was true, his charms of manner and conversation were so
great that he needed constant surveillance. And he received it, till
he repented genuinely of his marriage and neglected his personal
appearance. Mrs. Delville alone in the hotel was unchanged. She removed
her chair some six paces toward the head of the table, and occasionally
in the twilight ventured on timid overtures of friendship to Mrs. Bent,
which were repulsed.
"She does it for my sake," hinted the Virtuous Bent.
"A dangerous and designing woman," purred Mrs. Waddy.
Worst of all, every other hotel in Simla was full!
* * * * *
"Polly, are you afraid of diphtheria? "
"Of nothing in the world except smallpox. Diphtheria kills, but it
doesn't disfigure. Why do you ask? "
"Because the Bent baby has got it, and the whole hotel is upside down
in consequence. The Waddy has 'set her five young on the rail' and fled.
The Dancing Master fears for his precious throat, and that miserable
little woman, his wife, has no notion of what ought to be done. She
wanted to put it into a mustard bath--for croup! "
"Where did you learn all this? "
"Just now, on the Mall. Dr. Howlen told me. The Manager of the hotel
is abusing the Bents, and the Bents are abusing the manager.
