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Page 30
The light slowly dawned on my amazed intelligence. Could _this_--_this_
be the formidable, grey-haired woman, with whom I had been expecting,
and somewhat dreading, sooner or later, an encounter? Could _this_ be
the spectacled Committee-woman--the rampant bicyclist--the corrupter of
the youth of Tabitha? I looked at her immaculate dress, and pretty, neat
hair; I noted the winning expression of her eyes, and her sweetness of
manner; and instead of entrenching myself in the firm, though unspoken
hostility, which I had secretly cherished towards the idea of Aunt
Rennie, I felt myself yielding to the charm of a personality, whose
richness and sweetness were to me like a new experience of life.
I thought I had grasped the outlines of that personality in the first
interview, as we often do on forming a new acquaintance; but surprises
were yet in store for me. Aunt Rennie needed but little pressing to stay
the night, and then to add a second and a third day to her visit: she
was staying with some friends in the neighbourhood, and, it appeared,
could easily transfer herself to us. And as the time went on, I began to
feel that she had some secondary object in coming and in staying: I
thought I perceived a kind of diplomatic worldliness in Aunt Rennie,
which jarred with my first impression of her. I felt sure that her
purpose was in some way connected with Tabitha and John. She had, of
course, heard of Tabitha's friendship for him from her own letters, and
John she had known before we did. Well, it was on the fourth day that
Aunt Rennie, sitting cosily beside me, startled me by suddenly and
lightly remarking, that if I would consent, she wished to take Tabitha
back with her, at any rate for a time, to her home in the South of
England; she was almost necessary to her in her work at the present
juncture: no one could act as her Secretary so efficiently as Tabitha
could.
"Besides, to tell you a little secret," she added, with a charming air
of confidence and humour, "there is someone besides me that wants
Tabitha back: there is an excellent prospect for her, if she could only
turn her thoughts in that direction. You have heard of Horace Wetherell,
my second cousin--a rising barrister? Ah, well, a little bird has
whispered things to me. His prospects are now very different from what
they were when she was with me before, or I don't think she would ever
have come to you, to say the truth! We must not let her get involved in
anything doubtful. As you know, I have been acquainted with this John
Chambers and his family all my life. He is a good fellow enough, but
will never set the Thames on fire. She is exactly suited to my cousin,
who is a man of the highest and noblest character, and could not fail to
make her happy. It is only to take her away for a time, and I feel sure
all will be well. I knew, my dear friend, that a word to you was enough,
for Tabitha's sake: and so we will settle it between us."
I said little in reply, for I was suffering keenly. I felt as if this
fair, clever woman had struck a deliberate blow at my happiness, and in
a way to leave me resistless. I could not deny that it might be for
Tabitha's good to go away. Certainly John was poor, and in fact I had
thought lately that that might be the reason the engagement was delayed.
Tabitha was only twenty-two, and she might change her mind. I murmured
that I would leave it to Tabitha to decide; and as Aunt Rennie turned
away, I remember thinking that she was rather young to decide another
woman's destiny in such a matter. She was only six years older than
Tabitha.
* * * * *
Tabitha often says that she owes her present happiness to Aunt Rennie,
for if it had not been for the misery of the approaching separation,
John, oppressed by the sense of his poverty and humble prospects, would
never have had courage to tell her of his love. And I have sometimes
amused myself by reflecting how Aunt Rennie's shrewdness, intelligence
and determination, instead of working out her own ends, were all the
time furthering the thing that was most opposed to her wishes.
When, after those few days that followed--days for me of heart-breaking
conflict of feeling, and for my two children of tears, silent misery and
struggling passion, culminating at last, when the storm burst, in
complete mutual understanding, and a joint determination that carried
all before it--when, I say, Aunt Rennie, defeated, prepared to take her
leave, she said a word to me which I often thought of afterwards. "She
is choosing blindfold, tinsel for gold." I thought of it, not on account
of the expression, but of Aunt Rennie herself. There was something in
the pallor of her face, and in her tone, that made me ask myself whether
there could be anything in this matter that concerned Aunt Rennie
herself more closely than we thought--and, for the moment, a new and
motherly feeling rose up in my heart towards her.
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