Angel by Elizabeth Taylor

holding the book between finger and thumb as if it was poison-ivy.” Aunt Lottie demonstrated this, with a slice of bread-and-butter. “She went into Miss Angelica’s room, and I excused myself from Miss Toogood and went quietly along the landing. I heard Miss Angelica say: ‘But, Mamma, all of my friends are reading it.’ Then Madam said: ‘I shall ask Palmer to put it on the kitchen-range. I hope I have said enough and can trust your good taste in the future.’ I thought she was coming out of the room then, so I went back to Miss Toogood. ‘You look queer,’ she said. ‘I have these giddy spells,’ I told her and she let it go at that, barring advising some iron pills. I don’t know how I got through that day, but nothing was mentioned until Madam was dressing for dinner, then she put on one of her funny little smiles. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘what an odd coincidence it is,’ she said, ‘that this new authoress who has caused such a sensation has the very same name as your niece.’ My face flamed up. I could see it in the mirror. ‘Perhaps you’ve heard of her,’ she said; then she said: ‘ Have you heard of her?’ I couldn’t answer, only to say: ‘Oh dear, oh dear, madam.’ ‘So there is a connection?’ she asked. ‘I would rather have seen her dead at my feet,’ I said. I couldn’t help the tears falling.”
    Mrs Deverell looked uneasy, but sympathetic. “What did she say to that?”
    â€œShe asked our Angel’s age, and when I said ‘seventeen’ she just shook her head. Then she laughed, but not a nice laugh, and she said: ‘And to think that I once considered her as a maid for Miss Angelica! Well, I can’t lay blame on you for your relations and I shan’t do so. It is an unsavoury book and we will just forget it. There will be no need for you to mention it, or your niece, in this house.’”
    â€œWhatever would Ernie say to all this?” Mrs Deverell moaned.
    â€œ His side has something to answer for,” said Aunt Lottie. “No one can point to anything on our side, that’s one thing.”
    â€œBut Ernie would have been just as upset as us. He was such a good, quiet man and never caused any trouble to anyone.”
    â€œThere was his sister Ethel. Have you forgotten how she used to carry on? Burning incense and flying into tantrums and wearing those outlandish clothes.”
    â€œWe just used to put it down to her never marrying,” said Mrs Deverell tactlessly. “And she was religious right up to the time when they had to take her away; but wild horses wouldn’t drag Angel inside the Chapel nowadays. I don’t see any likeness.”
    â€œToo much; or too little; both are as bad where religion is concerned.”
    â€œPerhaps Angel’s a real clever girl, after all, and we don’t understand,” her mother said wistfully.
    â€œYou could be excused for thinking so, in your position, I daresay; but there’s no doubt, Emmy, she has brought us all down, and stopped she must be from dragging us still farther.”
    â€œShe’s at it now. In her bedroom, writing.”
    â€œIt makes me shudder to think what’s coming from her pen. You must tell her you won’t have it—that it’s got to be put a stop to.”
    â€œI can’t,” said Mrs Deverell hopelessly.
    â€œEmmy!” Aunt Lottie lowered her voice and her cheeks flushed. “Tell me, where did she find out all that . . . you know . . . the facts of life.”
    â€œCertainly not from me,” said Mrs Deverell proudly.
    Angel came in and sat down at the table, ignoring her aunt.
    â€œThe tea isn’t very fresh,” Mrs Deverell said anxiously.
    â€œIt was quite fresh when you called her,” said Aunt Lottie.
    â€œYes, you shouldn’t neglect your meals, Angel. I think you’ve been at it long