As for her daughter, she had no scruple about letting her go with a man
who was quite a stranger. The girl's future didn't trouble her. Since
Lavinia had entered her teens, mother and daughter had wrangled
incessantly. Lavinia was amiable enough, but constant snubbing had
roused a spirit which guided her according to her moods. Sometimes she
was full of defiance, at others she would run out of the house, and
ramble about the streets until she was dead tired.

Lavinia was shrewd enough to discover why her mother did not want her at
home. Mrs. Fenton, still good-looking, was not averse to flirting with
the more presentable of her customers, and as Lavinia developed into
womanhood she became a serious rival to her mother, so on the whole,
Gay's proposition suited Mrs. Fenton admirably, and she certainly never
bothered to find out if he spoke the truth. She was not inclined to
accept his story of the boarding school as a stepping-stone to the
stage, but to pretend to believe it in a way quieted what little
conscience she possessed. If the scheme turned out badly, why, no one
could say _she_ was to blame.

Lavinia, tremulous with excitement and looking prettier than ever, came
into the room where the poet was awaiting her. Her face fell when Gay
talked about the boarding school and of the possibility of her having to
remain there a long time, but she brightened up on his going on to say
that the period might be considerably shortened if she made a rapid
improvement.

"And do you really think, sir, I shall ever be good enough to act in a
theatre like Mrs. Barry and Mrs. Oldfield, and--oh, and Mrs.
Bracegurdle?" cried the girl, her eyes blazing with anxious ambition.