The Judgment of Eve

The Judgment of Eve, by May
Sinclair,

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Title: The Judgment of Eve
Author: May Sinclair

Release Date: October 29, 2006 [eBook #19658]
Language: English
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THE JUDGMENT OF EVE
by
MAY SINCLAIR
Author of "The Divine Fire"
Illustrated

[Illustration: "Arthur lay at her feet and read aloud to her"]

New York and London Harper & Brothers Publishers MCMVIII
Copyright, 1907, by Harper & Brothers. All rights reserved. Published
March, 1908.

ILLUSTRATIONS
"Arthur lay at her feet and read aloud to her"
"'John,' she said, suddenly, 'did you ever kill a pig?'"
"Over their cocoa he developed his theory of life"
"'Quack, quack!' said Arthur, and it made the baby nearly choke with
laughter"
"She listened without a scruple, justified by her motherhood"

"'Now, isn't it a pity for you to be going, dearie?'"
"'There isn't an unsweet, unsound spot in one of them'"
"Thoughts came to him, terrible thoughts"

THE JUDGMENT OF EVE
"'I saw a ship a-sailing, a-sailing on the sea'"--Nursery Rhyme.

I
It was market-day in Queningford. Aggie Purcell was wondering
whether Mr. Hurst would look in that afternoon at the Laurels as he had
looked in on other market-days. Supposing he did, and supposing Mr.
Gatty were to look in, too, why then, Aggie said, it would be rather
awkward. But whether awkward for herself, or for Mr. Gatty, or Mr.
Hurst, or for all three of them together, Aggie was unable to explain to
her own satisfaction or her mother's.
In Queningford there were not many suitors for a young lady to choose
from, but it was understood that, such as there were, Aggie Purcell
would have her pick of them. The other young ladies were happy
enough if they could get her leavings. Miss Purcell of the Laurels was
by common consent the prettiest, the best-dressed, and the
best-mannered of them all. To be sure, she could only be judged by
Queningford standards; and, as the railway nearest to Queningford is a
terminus that leaves the small gray town stranded on the borders of the
unknown, Queningford standards are not progressive. Neither are they
imitative; for imitation implies a certain nearness, and between the
young ladies of Queningford and the daughters of the county there is an
immeasurable void.
The absence of any effective rivalry made courtship a rather tame and
uninteresting affair to Miss Purcell. She had only to make up her mind

whether she would take the wine-merchant's son, or the lawyer's
nephew, or the doctor's assistant, or, perhaps, it would be one of those
mysterious enthusiasts who sometimes came into the neighborhood to
study agriculture. Anyhow, it was a foregone conclusion that each of
these doomed young men must pass through Miss Purcell's door before
he knocked at any other.
Pretty Aggie was rather a long time in making up her mind. It could
only be done by a slow process of elimination, till the embarrassing
train of her adorers was finally reduced to two. At the age of
five-and-twenty (five-and-twenty is not young in Queningford), she had
only to solve the comparatively simple problem: whether it would be
Mr. John Hurst or Mr. Arthur Gatty. Mr. John Hurst was a young
farmer just home from Australia, who had bought High Farm, one of
the biggest sheep-farming lands in the Cotswolds. Mr. Arthur Gatty
was a young clerk in a solicitor's office in London; he was down at
Queningford on his Easter holiday, staying with cousins at the County
Bank. Both had the merit of being young men whom Miss Purcell had
never seen before. She was so tired of all the young men whom she had
seen.
Not that pretty Aggie was a flirt and a jilt and a heartless breaker of
hearts. She wouldn't have broken anybody's heart for the whole world;
it would have hurt her own too much. She had never jilted anybody,
because she had never permitted herself to become engaged to any of
those young men. As for flirting, pretty Aggie couldn't have flirted if
she had tried. The manners of Queningford are not cultivated to that