Old for her age and one of
they flat, dreary-minded females with a voice like the wind in a winter
hedge, eyes without no more light in 'em than a rabbit's, and a moping,
down-daunted manner that made the women shrug their shoulders and the men
fly. Not a word against her, and the fact she was lady's maid for ten full
years to the Dowager can be told to prove her virtues; but then again, the
Dowager was a melancholy-minded old woman, along of family misfortunes,
and no doubt Minnie's gift for looking at the dark side suited that
ancient piece, who always did likewise.
But there it was. With her melancholy nose, thin shoulders and
sand-coloured hair, Minnie woke up no interest in the men, and there was
only one person surprised to find it so, and that was herself.
She told me once, in her poor, corncrake voice, that she'd never had an
affair in her life, though she'd saved money. "I'd always thought to have
a home of my own some day," she told me, "for it ain't as though I was one
of them women that shun the male and plan to go through life without a
partner; but they hold off, Mrs. Stocks, and the younger girls get
married."
"Plenty of time," I said--to pleasure her--though knowing only too well
there would never be the time for Minnie. "You wait," I said. "All things
come to them who wait."
Little did I guess I was speaking a true word, but I went on:
"Them as marry for the eye often find they're mistook, and with your
homely looks, my dear, you've always got the certainty no man will snatch
at you like he would at a pretty flower.
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