“There is no reason why he should not do that kind of thing—but the trouble is that it seems quite natural to him, as though it was what he was meant to do,” she said.
“Don’t you think he could do anything else?”
Nettie appeared reflective. “It strikes me he wouldn’t want to.”
“Tony is a very good fellow,” said Hester. “He has never done an ungraceful thing.”
“Well,” said Nettie, “I expect that is just what is wrong with him. It seems to me that the men who do what is worth doing can’t always be graceful. The knight in the chancel had his helmet beaten in, while I fancy his mail was battered and dusty, and if the great glittering angel waited for the Palliser who was shot in Africa it wasn’t because he carried tea trays prettily.”
“And yet Violet, who expects a good deal, is content with him.”
“Well,” said Nettie gravely, “I’m almost afraid she’s giving herself away. I have seen the man who would have suited her—and he was a ragged leader of the Sin Verguenza.”
“Had that man no taste?” asked Hester with a little laugh.
Nettie glanced down at the white hand she moved a little so that there was a flash from the ring. “That was there already. It was a man of the same kind who put it on.”
Tony and Violet Wayne came up just then, and when they sat down Hester turned to the man. “We are getting up a concert in the Darsley assembly rooms for the sewing guild,” she said. “We are, as usual, short of money. You will bring your banjo, and sing a coon song.”