readenglishbook.com » Fiction » He Knew He Was Right, Anthony Trollope [children's ebooks free online .TXT] 📗

Book online «He Knew He Was Right, Anthony Trollope [children's ebooks free online .TXT] 📗». Author Anthony Trollope



1 ... 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 ... 176
Go to page:
in the same way. In seating

herself she had been very anxious not to disarrange that arrangement,

almost equally anxious not to seem to adhere to it with any special

purpose. She was very careful that there should be nothing seen in her

manner that was in any way special, but in the meantime she was

suffering an agony of trouble. He did not care for her in the least.

She was becoming sure of that. She had given all her love to a man who

had none to give her in return. As she thought of this she almost

longed for the offer of that which she knew she could not have accepted

had it been offered to her. But she talked on about the scenery, about

the weather, descanting on the pleasure of living where such loveliness

was within reach. Then there came a pause for a moment. ‘Nora’ said

Priscilla, ‘I do not know what you are thinking about, but it is not of

the beauty of Niddon Park. Then there came a faint sound as of an

hysterical sob, and then a gurgle in the throat, and then a pretence

at laughter.

 

‘I don’t believe I am thinking of anything at all’ said Nora.

 

After which Hugh insisted on descending to the bank of the river, but,

as the necessity of re-climbing the slope was quite manifest, none of

the girls would go with him. ‘Come, Miss Rowley’ said he, ‘will you not

show them that a lady can go up and down a hill as well as a man?’

 

‘I had rather not go up and down the hill’ said she.

 

Then he understood that she was angry with him; and in some sort

surmised the cause of her anger. Not that he believed that she loved

him; but it seemed possible to him that she resented the absence of his

attention. He went down, and scrambled out on the rocks into the bed of

the river, while the girls above looked down upon him, watching the

leaps that he made. Priscilla and Mrs Trevelyan called to him, bidding

him beware; but Nora called not at all. He was whistling as he made his

jumps, but still he heard their voices, and knew that he did not hear

Nora’s voice. He poised himself on the edge of a rock in the middle of

the stream, and looked up the river and down the river, turning himself

carefully on his narrow foothold; but he was thinking only of Nora.

Could there be anything nobler than to struggle on with her, if she

only would be willing? But then she was young; and should she yield to

such a request from him, she would not know what she was yielding. He

turned again, jumping from rock to rock till he reached the bank, and

then made his way again up to the withered oak.

 

‘You would not have repented it if you had come down with me’ he said

to Nora.

 

‘I am not so sure of that’ she answered.

 

When they started to return she stepped on gallantly with Priscilla;

but Priscilla was stopped by some chance, having some word to say to

her brother, having some other word to say to Mrs Trevelyan. Could it

be that her austerity had been softened, and that in kindness they

contrived that Nora should be left some yards behind them with her

brother? Whether it were kindness, or an unkind error, so it was. Nora,

when she perceived what destiny was doing for her, would not interfere

with destiny. If he chose to speak to her she would hear him and would

answer him. She knew very well what answer she would give him. She had

her answer quite ready at her fingers’ ends. There was no doubt about

her answer.

 

They had walked half a mile together and he had spoken of nothing but

the scenery. She had endeavoured to appear to be excited. Oh, yes, the

scenery of Devonshire was delightful. She hardly wanted anything more

to make her happy. If only this misery respecting her sister could

be set right!

 

‘And you, you yourself’ said he, ‘do you mean that there is nothing you

want in leaving London?’

 

‘Not much, indeed.’

 

‘It sometimes seemed to me that that kind of life was was very pleasant

to you.’

 

‘What kind of life, Mr Stanbury?’

 

‘The life that you were living—going out, being admired, and having the

rich and dainty all around you.’

 

‘I don’t dislike people because they are rich’ she said.

 

‘No; nor do I; and I despise those who affect to dislike them. But all

cannot be rich.’

 

‘Nor all dainty, as you choose to call them.’

 

‘But they who have once been dainty as I call them never like to divest

themselves of their daintiness. You have been one of the dainty, Miss

Rowley.’

 

‘Have I?’

 

‘Certainly; I doubt whether you would be happy if you thought that your

daintiness had departed from you.’

 

‘I hope, Mr Stanbury, that nothing nice and pleasant has departed from

me. If I have ever been dainty, dainty I hope. I may remain. I will

never, at, any rate, give it up of my own accord’. Why she said this,

she could never explain to herself. She had certainly not intended to

rebuff him when she had been saying it. But he spoke not a word to her

further as they walked home, either of her mode of life or of his own.

CHAPTER XXV

HUGH STANBURY SMOKES HIS PIPE

 

Nora Rowley, when she went to bed, after her walk to Niddon Park in

company with Hugh Stanbury, was full of wrath against, him. But she

could not own her anger to herself, nor could she even confess to

herself though she was breaking her heart that there really existed for

her the slightest cause of grief. But why had he been so stern to her?

Why had he gone out of his way to be uncivil to her? He had called her

‘dainty’ meaning to imply by the epithet that she was one of the

butterflies of the day, caring for nothing but sunshine, and an

opportunity of fluttering her silly wings. She had understood well what

he meant. Of course he was right to be cold to her if his heart was

cold, but he need not have insulted her by his ill-concealed rebukes.

Had he been kind to her, he might have rebuked her as much as he liked.

She quite appreciated the delightful intimacy of a loving word of

counsel from the man she loved—how nice it is, as it were, to play at

marriage, and to hear beforehand something of the pleasant weight of

gentle marital authority. But there had been nothing of that in his

manner to her. He had told her that she was dainty and had so told it

her, as she thought, that she might, learn thereby, that under no

circumstances would he have any other tale to tell her. If he had no

other tale, why had he not been silent? Did he think that she was

subject to his rebuke merely because she lived under his mother’s roof?

She would soon shew him that her residence at the Clock House gave him

no such authority over her. Then amidst her wrath and despair, she

cried herself asleep.

 

While she was sobbing in bed, he was sitting, with a short, black pipe

stuck into his mouth, on the corner of the churchyard wall opposite.

Before he had left the house he and Priscilla had spoken together for

some minutes about Mrs Trevelyan. ‘Of course she was wrong to see him’

said Priscilla. ‘I hesitate to wound her by so saying, because she has

been illused, though I did tell her so, when she asked me. She could

have lost nothing by declining his visit.’

 

‘The worst of it is that Trevelyan swears that he will never receive

her again if she received him.’

 

‘He must unswear it’ said Priscilla, ‘that is all. It is out of the

question that a man should take a girl from her home, and make her his

wife, and then throw her off for so little of an offence as this. She

might compel him by law to take her back’

 

‘What would she get by that?’

 

‘Little enough’ said Priscilla; ‘and it was little enough she got by

marrying him. She would have had bread, and meat, and raiment without

being married, I suppose.’

 

‘But it was a love-match.’

 

‘Yes and now she is at Nuncombe Putney, and he is roaming about in

London. He has to pay ever so much a year for his love-match, and she

is crushed into nothing by it. How long will she have to remain here,

Hugh?’

 

‘How can I say? I suppose there is no reason against her remaining as

far as you are concerned?’

 

‘For me personally, none. Were she much worse than I think she is, I

should not care in the least for myself, if I thought that we were

doing her good helping to bring her back. She can’t hurt me. I am so

fixed, and dry, and established that nothing anybody says will affect

me. But mamma doesn’t like it.’

 

‘What is it she dislikes?’

 

‘The idea that she is harbouring a married woman, of whom people say,

at least, that she has a lover.’

 

‘Is she to be turned out because people are slanderers?’

 

‘Why should mamma suffer because this woman, who is a stranger to her,

has been imprudent? If she were your wife, Hugh—’

 

‘God forbid!’

 

‘If we were in any way bound to her, of course we would do our duty.

But if it makes mamma unhappy I am sure you will not press it. I think

Mrs Merton has spoken to her. And then Aunt Stanbury has written such

letters!’

 

‘Who cares for Aunt Jemima?’

 

‘Everybody cares for her except you and I. And now this man who has

been here asking the servant questions has upset her greatly. Even

your coming has done so, knowing, as she does, that you have come, not

to see us, but to make inquiries about Mrs Trevelyan. She is so annoyed

by it, that she does not sleep.

 

‘Do you wish her to be taken away at once?’ asked Hugh almost in an

angry tone.

 

‘Certainly not. That would be impossible. We have agreed to take her,

and must bear with it. And I would not have her moved from this, if I

thought that if she stayed awhile it might be arranged that she might

return from us direct to her husband.’

 

‘I shall try that, of course now.’

 

‘But if he will not have her, if he be so obstinate, so foolish, and so

wicked, do not leave her here longer than you can help. Then Hugh

explained that Sir Marmaduke and Lady Rowley were to be in England in

the spring, and that it would be very desirable that the poor woman

should not be sent abroad to look for a home before that. ‘If it must

be so, it must’ said Priscilla. ‘But eight months is a long time.’

 

Hugh went out to smoke his pipe on the church-wall in a moody, unhappy

state of mind. He had hoped to have done so well in regard to Mrs

Trevelyan. Till he had met Colonel Osborne, he felt sure, almost sure,

that she would have refused to see that pernicious trouble of the peace

of families. In this he found that he had been disappointed; but he

had

1 ... 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 ... 176
Go to page:

Free e-book «He Knew He Was Right, Anthony Trollope [children's ebooks free online .TXT] 📗» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment