The Confounding of Camelia — Anne Douglas Sedgwick

Hen Camelia came down into the country after her second London season, descended lightly upon the home of her forefathers, her coming unannounced, and as much a matter of caprice as had been her long absence, a slowly growing Opinion, an opinion that had begun to form itself during Camelia's most irresponsible girlhood, became clearly defined, a judgment fixed and apparently irrevocable. The Patons had always been good, quiet people; abso lutely undistinguished, were it not that the super lative quality of their tranquil excellence gave a certain distinction. There were no black sheep in their annals, and a black sheep gives, by contrast, a brilliancy lacking to unaccented bucolic groupings, strikes a note of interest at any rate; but none of the Paton sheep were even gray. They fed in pleasant, plenteous pastures, for it was a wealthy, though not noticeably wealthy family, and perhaps a rather sheep-like dulness, an unimaginative con tentment not conducive to adventurous strayings, accounted for the spotless fleeces. Their cupboards had never held a skeleton - nor so much as the bone of one. The family portraits.

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