The Victim and The Worm

In Short

This collection of two novellas examines the corrosive nature of self-righteousness within family and social circles. In The Victim, a shrewd, observant father navigates the manipulative drama of his daughter, Hermione, whose vanity disrupts his household. In The Worm, a young woman breaks free from the suffocating, perfectionist control of her teacher, Miss Strickland. Both stories masterfully dissect the psychology of "victimhood"—how it is used as a weapon to demand service, and how the quiet, overlooked members of society eventually exert their will to escape it.

The Story

In The Victim, Oliver Brett, an American, lives in England with his daughter Elise and her husband, John Sterling. The household’s peace is shattered by the arrival of Elise’s sister, Hermione, a woman who views herself as a fragile, persecuted martyr. Hermione uses her supposed chronic illness as a tool to command attention, demanding that others alter their schedules, habits, and loyalties to suit her whims. She creates a web of emotional obligations that strain Elise’s marriage and exhaust the household. Mr. Brett, watching with detached, clinical precision, recognizes Hermione’s behavior not as illness, but as a rigid, desperate vanity. He eventually confronts her, stripping away her excuses and exposing the harm she has caused to her own child and husband. Though Hermione remains fundamentally unchanged—clinging to her identity as a victim even in the face of truth—Mr. Brett succeeds in establishing boundaries that shield his family from her influence, demonstrating that true strength lies in recognizing when to stop fighting the "worms" of the world and simply let them exist in their own limited spheres.

In The Worm, the focus shifts to a small town where the formidable Miss Onoria Strickland rules over her social circle and her pupils with an iron will. She believes that all women are inherently deceitful and that she alone possesses the clarity to judge others. Her star pupil, Elsie Andrews, lives in a state of terrified devotion to Onoria, serving her with an almost religious intensity. However, when Elsie begins to develop a life of her own—finding companionship with Peter Gubbins—Onoria views this as a personal betrayal. She attempts to shame Elsie and dictate her future, using her sharp tongue to isolate the girl. Yet, in a quiet, almost imperceptible shift, Elsie and Peter begin to act on their own terms, sidestepping Onoria’s outbursts. The story concludes with the couple achieving a stable, independent life. They do not confront Onoria directly, but rather develop a private, amused perspective on her limitations. By gifting her a puppy—which forces Onoria to care for something else—they effectively redirect her focus away from themselves. The "worm" has turned, not through grand rebellion, but by simply outgrowing the need for their oppressor’s approval.

How It Unfolds

The arrival of the martyr The story opens at a tranquil English estate, where the arrival of the supposedly ailing Hermione introduces a climate of constant, self-centered crisis. Her father and brother-in-law struggle to navigate her shifting demands, which turn mundane domestic chores into moral tests of their devotion.

The anatomy of a conflict Mr. Brett begins a quiet, patient observation of his daughter’s tactics, refusing to be drawn into her dramatics. He identifies the lawnmower—a symbol of order and peace—as the primary battleground where John’s patience is slowly eroded by Hermione’s influence.

The final confrontation In a climactic scene, Mr. Brett systematically dismantles Hermione’s narrative of persecution. He forces her to acknowledge her own choices, leaving her to retreat into a self-protecting sleep while he reflects on the indestructible nature of human vanity.

The reign of the teacher In the second tale, Onoria Strickland establishes her dominance over the community, specifically targeting her pupil, Elsie, with rigid expectations. She rules through fear and constant criticism, convinced that she is the only person capable of defining reality for those around her.

A secret assertion of will Elsie and Peter Gubbins begin to reclaim their lives, navigating Onoria’s disapproval with quiet persistence. They ignore her attempts to control their movements, finding strength in their mutual affection and their shared realization that Onoria’s bitterness is a limitation of her own life, not theirs.

The soft victory The narrative concludes with the couple settled into their own lives, maintaining a polite, distant relationship with Onoria. By providing her with a puppy, they effectively domesticate their former oppressor, signaling that they are no longer the subjects of her influence.

The People

Oliver P. Brett is a pragmatic, observant man who values "solid facts" over emotional theatrics. He serves as the moral compass of his story, using a calm, detached intelligence to see through the manipulations of those around him.

Hermione is the embodiment of vanity, a woman who weaponizes her own fragility to control her family. She lives in a perpetual state of performance, seeing herself as a tragic hero and everyone else as either an instrument or an obstacle.

Miss Onoria Strickland is a woman of "violent prejudices" who believes that her harsh treatment of others is a form of discipline. Her desire for control masks a deep loneliness, and she is ultimately unable to understand the joy of those who stop seeking her validation.

Elsie Andrews begins as a "dunce" who worships her teacher, finding purpose only in obedience. Through her relationship with Peter, she evolves into a person who can distinguish between the harsh reality of her teacher’s bitterness and the quiet reality of her own happiness.

Peter Gubbins is the catalyst for Elsie’s growth. He is portrayed as a grounded, steady presence who helps Elsie realize that they do not need to fight Onoria—they only need to exit her sphere of influence.

In Its Own Voice

“Vanity is the toughest human quality there is—and it’s the most vital.”

Mr. Brett reflects on the central obstacle that prevents people like Hermione from ever truly changing or finding peace.

“I don’t say much about your childhood,” he began impartially. “You took credit for what was given you in the way of looks and wit, you practised them up a lot, and then fought your mother with them.”

Mr. Brett systematically confronts his daughter, laying out the history of her manipulative behavior as a matter of record rather than opinion.

“The sight of Elsie’s tears softened her a little, but she mistook their meaning.”

The narrator highlights Onoria’s fundamental inability to understand those she rules, noting that she misinterprets an act of protest as an act of repentance.

What It's Really About

These stories explore the mechanics of emotional control and the necessity of self-differentiation. The core argument is that "victimhood" is often a deliberate, albeit unconscious, choice used to maintain power in relationships. The book posits that vanity acts as a barrier to authentic connection; so long as a person is obsessed with their own image as a martyr or a judge, they are incapable of seeing others as human beings. The resolution of both stories suggests that the way to defeat such control is not through a violent clash of wills, but through the realization that the "oppressor" relies on the "victim's" compliance. Once that compliance is withdrawn, the oppressor loses their power.

Why Read It Today

This work is for readers who appreciate character-driven narratives that favor psychological nuance over high-octane plot. You will find it particularly resonant if you are interested in how subtle, domestic power dynamics work, or if you have ever felt the weight of someone else’s expectations.

The reading experience is calm and steady, characterized by a dry, observant wit that feels almost modern in its skepticism. However, be aware that the prose is very much a product of its time—the 1920s—which manifests in period-specific attitudes toward marriage, social class, and gender roles. Some readers may find the dialogue and the "American-in-England" perspective a bit mannered, and the characters’ propensity for long, analytical monologues about human nature requires a patient ear.

What stays with you is not the drama of the conflicts, but the quiet dignity of the endings. The book offers a refreshing, non-judgmental look at how people grow into their own lives, often by simply walking away from the roles others have assigned them. It is a quiet study in the art of living one’s own life, free from the shadow of those who would rather you remain a prop in their personal play.