The Seven Ages of Woman

Compton MacKenzie

• Publisher: Library of Alexandria
• Year: 2021
• eBook ISBN: 9781465660800
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Literature General
• Index: Literature

On a June morning in the year 1859 Sir Richard Flower of Barton Flowers in the county of Southampton decided that the weather was propitious for his annual progress on horseback round the confines of his demesne. The order was given to saddle his gray gelding; Lady Flower was informed that her husband would dine two hours later than usual, and upon her expressing alarm at the prospect of so long a fast for him, she was reassured by a farther announcement that he would fortify himself against the strain of waiting until six o'clock for his dinner with light refreshment at one of the outlying farms. Lady Flower sent back word to say how much she regretted not having known of Sir Richard's expedition earlier in order that she might have made an effort to overcome her headache and bid him farewell in person. To this the baronet replied with a solemn admonition to her ladyship's maid that her ladyship must on no account do anything to make her headache worse. The exchange of courtesies being thus complete, Sir Richard mounted his gray gelding and set out, pausing for a moment at the top of the drive to look back at the Hall and respond with his crop to a handkerchief that fluttered from an upper window. In the manner of shaking his crop Sir Richard succeeded in conveying a reproof for the indiscretion of rising from bed, affection for his beloved wife, and gratification at the devotion displayed for himself. Then he turned his horse's head to the left and cantered down a grassy avenue between ancient oak trees. Sir Richard was accustomed to give much thought to his position as holder of one of the oldest baronetcies in England, to the responsibilities that such a position laid upon himself, to the beauty and fertility of his demesne, to the timbered glories of his Hall, and to the honorable record of his family; but on the day annually devoted to riding round his ten thousand acres he never allowed himself to think about anything else. He even went so far, when in the depths of the wood neither squirrel moved nor bird chattered and there was none but the gray gelding to overhear him, as to cry aloud in exultation the motto of his house Floreant Flores. On this day dedicated to himself, his family, and his land, Sir Richard indulged in so many whimsicalities of behavior that an observer might have supposed him the prey of madness or the victim of degraded superstition. Thus at one point he dismounted from his horse and, kneeling in the middle of the ride, placed an outspread palm upon the cushions of moss and incorporated the thousands of green and golden stars within his allegiance. He went farther; he laid bare the earth beneath and commanded a congregation of disturbed millipedes to acknowledge him as master. He made with his hands a cup to contain the black earth, and let it trickle through his fingers as a miser might play with his gold. "Mine, " he said aloud, and stood for a moment in amazement at one who owned not merely all the green world within sight, but four thousand miles of unimaginable territory beneath his feet. "Mine, " he repeated, "and after me John, and after John another Richard. Praise God that I appreciate the state of life to which He has called me;" with this apostrophe the baronet swept off his high silk hat to salute his patron.

Table of contents

• THE SEVEN AGES OF WOMAN