Lesbia Newman (1889)/Chapter 11

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4280178Lesbia Newman (1889) — Chapter XIHenry Robert Samuel Dalton

CHAPTER XI.

More Country Life.

Lesbia’s achievements described in the preceding chapter soon made her both known and popular in the county, at all events among the intelligent portions of its society. During the rest of that winter she and her friend made regular appearances in the hunting field, so often indeed that her uncle felt it incumbent upon him to send a subscription on her account. From hunting the young girl could easily have passed to shooting and fishing had she been so disposed; but though her uncle would have helped her, and she had no lack of invitations, she remained content with hunting, and did not care to launch into the other field sports. Manly games, however, came natural to her, football and cricket both claimed her attention in their respective seasons; and as she was not hampered with skirts, she could take her part in these on equal terms with men. Hardly an out-door or in-door exercise could be named in which she did not join with a capacity and a zest unknown to other girls, who had to compete with each other and with men, trammeled by the old and stupid fashion. She was getting ‘as hard as nails’ in body and mind,—as indifferent to bruises and blows as to the taunts of ‘weakervesselish’ women, for whom she never took the trouble to conceal her contempt. Not that she was ever inconsiderate toward any one of either sex on account of weak health or other infirmity; it was only the prejudices of those who wished to keep her sex in the old grooves, which she snarled against and set her heel upon.

Playing one afternoon in the following summer at Ruddymere at lawn-tennis, a game in which her dress, of course, gave her a great advantage over other girls who had had much more practice, she happened to have as an opponent a Mr Julius Dandidimmons, a young loafer without any brains to speak of, who looked upon women generally as his inferiors by nature. On Lesbia’s making some clever stroke, he remarked,—

‘Well done, Miss Newman; you really play very well, for a lady.’

This riled Lesbia, but she said nothing, watched her opportunity, and when they happened to be both near the net, she returned the ball with her favourite stroke and caught him such a stinger in the face that he had to retire from the game, followed by Lesbia’s apology.

‘Dear me, Mr Dandidimmons, what a pity! Too smart for a lady, wasn’t it? I’m afraid you napped that heavily on your whisker-bed, as St Thomas Aquinas hath it.’

‘St Thomas Aquinas!’ exclaimed Rose Dimpleton, who was in the four.

‘Not St Thomas Aquinas?’ asked Lesbia innocently; ‘well then, the Sporting Slap-up, which was his organ, or some other equal authority.’

Several of the other ladies gathered round the wounded Julius; Lesbia presently came too, but only to punish him more under the guise of sympathy.

‘IT hate that Miss Newman,’ he afterwards confided to some intimate friends; ‘she’s not a bit like a gurl,—quite unsexed, a regular hoyden, don’t you know. I like gurls to be gurls, soft and feminine, don’t you know—but, for gracious’ sake, don’t tell her I said so!’

Rowing in four and pair outriggers and sometimes in a skiff alone, was another of Lesbia’s out-door exercises this summer. The river to which she had to go for this purpose was the same across which the memorable ferry had taken her with the bicyclists, and it was some members of that club who got up such boating as was to be had on its rather narrow water. It was better than none, however, and further up there was a wider reach, where racing was practicable. Lesbia rowed sometimes bow, other times stroke, and everyone admired the easy and powerful style she had acquired. One bright evening just before sunset, as she pulled down past the well-remembered group of poplars, two big rough-looking men on the bank saluted her respectfully. She did not recognise them at first, but they had recognised her, and a second glance showed her that they were none other than the identical bargees. Poor Bill and Joe! we shall meet with them once more in this story; but on a very different scene.