WILLIAM CONGREVE It was the worst day of young Jenny’s life. She was thoroughly ashamed of herself and made more thoroughly ashamed and miserable when Mrs Freemantle, on learning the glad news of Lady Letitia’s engagement, berated Jenny for having given her aunt so much unnecessary suffering the night before. Jenny had been much attached to her former governess, Miss Phipps, now living in retirement in Barminster, not realizing that lady’s slavish admiration of beauty had been a dangerous thing. Everything Jenny did or thought was right in Miss Phipps’ eyes. The governess had maintained that any girl as pretty as Jenny did not need to waste her time addling her mind with unnecessary education. Beauty was power, according to Miss Phipps, and beautiful women had a right to use that power to the best advantage because men were selfish beasts and a little teasing and flirting and heartbreak never did any of them any harm. Although Jenny had not quite believed the extent of this nonsense, she had formed too high an opinion of her own looks.
