Free The Great Train Robbery by Michael Crichton Page B

other day, I was offered a most excellently made dog, close upona felon, with the tastes of a true fighter. I could not make the purchase, for I have no time myself to look after the animal.”
    “Most unfortunate,” said Mr. T. “What was the price asked?”
    “Fifty guineas.”
    “Excellent price.”
    “Indeed.”
    The waiter brought more drinks. “I am myself in search of a made dog,” Mr T. said.
    “Indeed?”
    “Yes,” Mr. T. said. “I should like a third to complement my stable, with Lover and Shantung—that is the other dog. But I don’t suppose …”
    The red-bearded gentleman paused discreetly before answering. The training, buying, and selling of fighting dogs was, after all, illegal. “If you wish,” Pierce said at last, “I could inquire whether the animal is still available.”
    “Oh, yes? That would be very good of you. Very good indeed.” Mr. T. had a sudden thought. “But were I you, I should buy it myself. After all, while you were abroad, your wife could instruct the servants in the care of the beast.”
    “I fear,” replied the red-bearded man, “that I have devoted too much of my energies these past years to the pursuit of business concerns. I have never married.” And then he added, “But of course I should like to.”
    “Of course,” Mr. T. said, with a most peculiar look coming over his face.

CHAPTER 12

The Problem of Miss Elizabeth Trent
    Victorian England was the first society to constantly gather statistics on itself, and generally these figures were a source of unabashed pride. Beginning in 1840, however, one trend worried the leading thinkers of the day: there were increasingly more single women than men. By 1851, the number of single women of marriageable age was reliably put at 2,765,000—and a large proportion of these women were the daughters of the middle and upper classes.
    Here was a problem of considerable dimension and gravity. Women of lower stations in life could take jobs as seamstresses, flower girls, field workers, or any of a dozen lowly occupations. These women were of no pressing concern; they were slovenly creatures lacking in education and a discriminating view of the world. A. H. White reports, in tones of astonishment, that he interviewed a young girl who worked as a matchbox maker, who “never went to church or chapel. Never heard of ‘England’ or ‘London’ or the ‘sea’ or ‘ships.’ Never heard of God. Does not know what He does. Does not know whether it is better to be good or bad.”
    Obviously, in the face of such massive ignorance, one must simply be grateful that the poor child had discovered some way to survive in society at all. But the problem presented by the daughters of middle- and upper-class households was different. These young ladies possessed education and a taste for genteel living.And they had been raised from birth for no other purpose than to be “perfect wives.”
    It was terribly important that such women should marry. The failure to marry—spinsterhood—implied a kind of dreadful crippling, for it was universally acknowledged that “a woman’s true position was that of administratrix, mainspring, guiding star of the home,” and if she was unable to perform this function, she became a sort of pitiful social misfit, an oddity.
    The problem was made more acute by the fact that well-born women had few alternatives to wifehood. After all, as one contemporary observer noted, what occupations could they find “without losing their position in society? A lady, to be such, must be a mere lady, and nothing else. She must not work for profit or engage in any occupation that money can command, lest she invade the rights of the working classes, who live by their labor.…”
    In practice, an unmarried upper-class woman could use the one unique attribute of her position, education, and become a governess. But by 1851, twenty-five thousand women were already employed as governesses and there was, to say the least, no