The Third Miss St Quentin — A Closer Reading

(0 User reviews) 478

In Category - Young Readers Enchanted Adventures

Authors: Molesworth, Mrs., 1839-1921 Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2013 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Young women -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Fathers and daughters -- Juvenile fiction; Motherless families -- Juvenile fiction; Cinderella (Legendary character) -- Juvenile fiction; Sponsors -- Juvenile fiction; Stepsisters -- Juvenile fiction; Suspicion -- Juvenile fiction Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 86,365

Reading time 376 min

Text sections 9

The source record for The Third Miss St Quentin — A Closer Reading measures this digital text at 86,365 words, 6 hr 16 min estimated reading time, and 9 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 15.7 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #43109

In Mrs. Molesworth's novel, the youngest St Quentin sister navigates family tensions and social expectations. The story contrasts childish imperiousness with quiet self-control, and hints at misunderstandings that ripple through conversations and rumors.

Editorial Edition Score 4.7/5

★★★★★ ★★★★★

Calculated from edition completeness, EPUB availability, text structure and catalogue metadata. Not a user rating.

How this score is calculated

Description quality20 pts
Title & short description10 pts
Source metadata20 pts
Text length15 pts
Chapters / structure15 pts
EPUB file integrity20 pts

Total of 100 points, scaled to a 2.5-5.0 range. Editions with an empty description or a missing EPUB file are not scored.

Edition quality

File: pg43109

Read the Text

Ella looked far from pleased.

"Things must wait, not me," she said imperiously. "Mamma always reads to me this minute."

"Your mamma's ill, Miss Ella; and when there's illness in the house there's plenty for everybody to do without wasting one's time over nonsense."

Ella's face grew scarlet with anger.

"'Tisn't nonsense," she said; "I'm ill too. I've got a cold, and you should amoose me."

But before Harvey had time to reply, except by a short laugh, the door opened, and both the occupants of the nursery looked round to see who was there. A young girl of thirteen or fourteen, but with something in her air and manner which made her seem older, came in quickly. She was tall and slight, and though very plainly dressed, one could not have passed her by without noticing her.

"Harvey," she said, and her tone, though not ungentle, was cold and even a very little haughty, "how is Miss Ella to-day? Mrs St Quentin is very anxious about her."

Harvey glanced round with a sort of affectation of indifference that was irritating.

"There's not the least need in the world to be anxious, miss," she said. "The child's got a cold, like everybody else in this changeable weather. There was no need for her mamma to hear nothing about it."

The girl looked at her still more severely.

"It is your fault that she has a cold, and you know it," she said. "She was out far too late the day before yesterday. I certainly do not wish Mrs St Quentin to be troubled, but if you are not more careful I shall speak to my father; I warn you plainly." Ella had been listening open-mouthed to this discussion, and in the interest of it had forgotten her own tribulations. She got up from the floor, and moved by the generous childish impulse of defending the oppressed, resenting too, perhaps, that her sister had taken no direct notice of her since entering the room, she ran to Harvey and caught hold of her hand.

"Naughty Maddie," she said, "you're not to scold poor Harvey; I don't like you, Maddie. Go away; I'll tell mamma."

Madelene glanced at the little girl, opened her lips as if to speak, but closed them again.

"If she is kind to Ella it is a good thing, I suppose, and perhaps I should not have said anything before the child," was the reflection that rapidly passed through her mind.

"You don't understand, Ella dear," she said quietly, and with unusual self-control, though her fair face coloured a little. "I am very glad that you don't like Harvey to be scolded."

And without saying more, she left the room.

"`Scolded' indeed, by a upsetting piece of goods like her. Very fine, Miss Madelene, but you're not mistress yet, nor never shall be to _me_, I can promise you," muttered Harvey.

But Ella was clinging to her.

"You must read to me now," the child urged. "I'm very good to you, Harvey. I wouldn't let sister Maddie scold you, so you should be nice to me."

A slight and not pleasant smile crossed the maid's face.

"Come along then, Miss Ella," she said. "If you'll be very good and not worrit-worrit if I'm out of your sight for half a minute, I'll read to you for a little. What is it you want?"

She seated herself comfortably in a rocking chair by the fire, and took the child on her knee.

"Here now," she said, carelessly picking up the first picture book that came to hand, "I'll read you some of these nursery rhymes--`Little Boy Blue.'"

"No," said Ella crossly, "I don't like singy stories. Read me real ones. `Laddin's' very nice." But Harvey's eyes had caught sight of another of the bright-coloured books.

"Oh, no," she exclaimed, with a little malicious laugh, "we'll have `Cinderella,' Miss Ella. `Cinderella, Miss Ella,' there's a rhyme for you! It's like your name, and she's like you too. She had two big sisters, and her mamma was--" Here she coughed and stopped short.

"Her mamma was dead. I know the story," put in Ella, "_my_ mamma isn't dead, so it isn't like me. You're talking nonsense, Harvey," and she pushed the book aside and began to wriggle about impatiently.

"I'm not talking nonsense," said Harvey sharply. "Just listen now, Miss Ella. Cinderella had two big sisters, and they were very cross to her-- at least not always perhaps, but pretty often, and they'd come and scold for nothing at all."

"Like Maddie this morning," said Ella; "but it wasn't me she scolded. It was you. The story isn't like me; you're very silly, Harvey."

Continue Reading →

The opening scene of The Third Miss St Quentin immediately establishes a household under strain. Six-year-old Ella, suffering from a cold, demands attention from her nurse Harvey with imperious phrases like “Things must wait, not me.” Her older sister Madelene enters, speaking in a tone “cold and even a very little haughty,” and reproaches Harvey for the child’s illness. The exchange reveals a family where illness, duty, and authority intersect: the mother is ill, the nurse is evasive, and Madelene’s attempt to protect Ella is met with childish defiance. The narrator notes Madelene’s “unusual self-control” as she restrains herself from arguing before the child. This early friction—between bluntness and restraint, between the child’s will and the sister’s quiet authority—sets a pattern for the novel’s social dynamics.

Voice and Authority in the Nursery

The excerpts repeatedly contrast direct, forceful speech with measured, withheld words. Ella’s complaint “I can’t read, and I can’t see the picshures” shows a child who expects immediate gratification. Harvey’s reply—“You must wait a bit”—is practical but dismissive. Madelene’s intervention is more controlled: she speaks “quietly” and with “unusual self-control,” even when provoked. The narrator notes that she “opened her lips as if to speak, but closed them again.” This pattern of speech—sometimes spoken, sometimes suppressed—appears again later when Sir Philip hears a rumor about Ella being the belle of a ball. He dismisses it as “utter nonsense,” but the narrator records his “increasing mystification.” The text thus builds tension through what is said, what is left unsaid, and how characters choose to respond.

Rumors and Misunderstandings

A key thread in the excerpts is the way gossip spreads and distorts events. Sir Philip, returning unexpectedly, learns from a lawyer that his cousin’s dance was a success and that “the youngest Miss St Quentin was tremendously admired.” He is baffled: “The youngest Miss St Quentin is still to all intents and purposes a child.” The lawyer’s nephew had apparently mistaken someone else, but the rumor persists. Philip’s reaction—a “feeling of increasing mystification”—mirrors the reader’s sense that information is unreliable. The novel seems to explore how characters interpret and misinterpret each other’s actions. Philip wonders if his grandmother’s behavior at the dance was odd, and whether “any one noticed that she and I were never together the whole evening.” These small uncertainties suggest a world where appearances are easily misread.

Material Details and Social Markers

The excerpts include precise descriptions of clothing and objects that hint at social position and care. Ella’s “thick grey linsey frock” is practical, while her ball dress—white tulle, “snowily pretty”—is carefully packed by a maid. The maid’s comment, “It’s very little the worse,” and her instruction to have “Millannie” iron it, point to a household with multiple servants and a hierarchy of tasks. Ella does not yet have her own maid. These details ground the story in a specific domestic economy. Similarly, the nurse Harvey’s “affectation of indifference” and the mention of “the rectifying of abuses” in Sir Philip’s work suggest that the novel pays attention to how people manage—or fail to manage—their responsibilities. The physical objects—a frock, a basket trunk, a fire—are not mere decoration; they carry information about character and circumstance.

Readers attentive to the novel’s early scenes will notice how often a character’s tone—cold, haughty, quiet, imperious—carries as much weight as their words. The excerpts offer no resolution to the tensions they introduce, but they do establish a world where a child’s cold, a nurse’s evasion, and a rumor about a dance can all set events in motion. Pay particular attention to moments when characters choose silence over speech, and to the small material clues—a frock, a trunk, a maid’s name—that anchor the story in a particular social reality.

That rainy afternoon, I kept returning to how easily the youngest St Quentin’s words were misread, her quieter sister’s restraint mistaken for coldness. The same unsettling gap between intention and interpretation lingered in my mind afterward, so when I noticed The Lure of the Mississippi — A Reader’s Guide on the shelf, it felt less like a new book and more like the same weather moving downstream.