Read the following passage carefully before answering the question.
Marian watched her mother's fingers as they smoothed the lace runner across the sideboard. Eleanor's movements were always deliberate, characterized by a quiet, unyielding symmetry that left no room for error. The lace had belonged to Eleanor's grandmother, a relic of a time when the family's name carried weight in the valley, before the mills closed and the orchards went untended.
'He will be here by five,' Eleanor said, her voice even, though her fingers lingered on a frayed edge of the lace. 'We must show him that nothing has crumbled.'
Marian leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. The posture was a shield, though she doubted her mother noticed. 'Why must we pretend, Mother? He knows exactly what he left behind.'
Eleanor did not look up. She adjusted a silver candlestick, shifting it a fraction of an inch to the left. 'He left a house, Marian. He did not leave our dignity. That is ours to keep, and ours to display.'
The distinction was typical of Eleanor, who lived in the narrow space between appearance and reality. For years, Marian had observed this performance—the meticulous preservation of a social standing that had long since vanished. Yet, as the carriage wheels crunched on the gravel outside, Marian felt a familiar, suffocating pressure in her chest. She wanted to shatter the candlestick, to rip the lace, to force Eleanor to look at the dust gathering in the corners of the room. But she remained still, her own face settling into the passive, polite mask she had inherited.
'He is early,' Eleanor murmured, her hand dropping to her side. For a brief second, the symmetry of her posture wavered, her shoulders sagging under the weight of the heavy velvet drapes. In that fleeting instant, Marian saw not an adversary, but a prisoner of her own design.
'Let him wait a moment,' Marian said, her tone softening as she stepped forward to touch her mother's arm. But Eleanor instantly drew back, straightening her spine.
'We do not keep guests waiting,' Eleanor replied, her voice resuming its polished lacquer. 'Particularly not those who believe we have forgotten how to receive them.'
In the passage, the tension between Marian’s desire to disrupt her mother’s pretenses and Eleanor’s rigid adherence to decorum culminates in Eleanor’s rejection of Marian’s touch. Which of the following best describes the function of this interaction?
- AIt serves as the author’s direct endorsement of Marian’s rebellious attitude as the only rational response to Eleanor’s outdated social values.
- BIt acts as a literal plot device to show that Eleanor is physically unable to handle the stress of the impending visit, leading directly to the resolution of the story.
- It underscores the way Eleanor’s commitment to maintaining social appearances prevents a genuine moment of emotional connection between the mother and daughter.Answer
- DIt demonstrates Eleanor's underlying hostility toward Marian, establishing a clear moral dichotomy between the cruel mother and the victimized daughter.
- EIt highlights how Marian acts as a foil to Eleanor, showing that Marian is entirely free of the pride and concern for appearance that governs Eleanor's life.