- 68 -
page: there being nothing whatever, except the attitude, to prevent
her from walking.
Here between youthful Romantic attitudes and mature realism, there is a ludicrous
clash, as age refuses to abandon its earlier pretensions. And Mrs Skewton's words reveal
an artfully naive rhetoric which she might have grown out of, but, it is more likely, that
she has grown into:
"And can you be a day, or even a minute", returned the lady,
slightly settling her false curls and false eyebrows with her fan, and
showing her false teeth, set off by her false complexion, "in the garden
of what's-its-name-".
"Eden, I suppose, Mama", interrupted the younger lady,
scornfully. "My dear Edith", said the other, "I cannot help it. I never
can remember those frightful names -- without having your whole Soul
and Being inspired by the sight of Nature; by the perfume", said Mrs
Skewton, rustling a handkerchief that was faint and sickly with
essences, "of her artless breath, you creature!"
(Chapter 21)
Her exact counterpart, her equally dubious complement, is Mrs Merdle in Little Dorrit
The lady was not young and fresh from the hand of Nature,
but was young and fresh from the hand of her maid. She had large
unfeeling handsome eyes, and dark unfeeling handsome hair, and a
broad unfeeling handsome bosom, and was made the most of in every
particular
"Society", said Mrs Merdle, with another curve of her little
finger, "is so difficult to explain to young persons (indeed is so
difficult to explain to most persons), that I am glad to hear that. I
wish Society was not so arbitrary, I wish it was not so exacting-
Bird, be quiet!"
The parrot had given a most piercing shriek, as if its name
were Society and it asserted its right to its exactions.
"But", resumed Mrs Merdle, "we must take it as we find it. We know
it is hollow and conventional and worldly and shocking, but unless
we are Savages in the Tropical seas (I should have been charmed to
be one myself - most delightful life and perfect climate, I am told),
we must consult it. It is the common lot. Mr Merdle is a most
extensive merchant, his transactions are on the vastest scale, his
wealth and influence are very great, but even he - Bird, be quiet!"
(Book the First, Chapter 20)
Whereas Mrs Skewton uses Romantic phrases, verbal and rhetorical gestures to
cover her age and her mendacity, Mrs Merdle nods in the direction of Romantic dreams
of escape to a world of noble savages in order to pretend to an imaginative humanity
which she claims Society denies her. In her case Reality, and its recognition, is an alibi
which she claims to have to accept under duress. At the same time Mr Merdle, exploiting
