But Janet
Tosswill was more frank. With her, tepid liking had turned into dislike,
and when she alluded to the pretty widow, which was not often, she would
tersely describe her as "second-rate."
Now there is no word in the English language more deadly in its vague
import than that apparently harmless adjective. As applied to a human
being, it generally conveys every kind of odious significance, and
curiously enough it is seldom applied without good reason.
Mrs. Crofton had gentle, pretty manners, but her manner lacked sincerity.
She was not content to leave her real beauty of colouring and feature to
take care of itself; her eye-brows were "touched up," and when she
fancied herself to be "off colour" she would put on a suspicion of rouge.
But what perhaps unduly irritated the mistress of Old Place were Mrs.
Crofton's clothes! To such shrewd, feminine eyes as were Janet
Tosswill's, it was plain that the new tenant of The Trellis House had
taken as much pains over her widow's mourning as a coquettish bride takes
over her trousseau.
Janet Tosswill was far too busy a woman to indulge in the village game
of constant informal calls on her neighbours. She left all that sort of
thing to her younger step-daughters; and as Mrs.
Pages:
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203