|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 5
CHAPTER II.
THE TERRIBLE JUNE.
It was about the middle of the month. Harriet was spending some hours
with a friend, Edmund was out, and I had been left alone all day for the
first time since I came home. I remember everything that happened with
the utmost distinctness. I spent the day chiefly in the garden,
gathering roses for pot-pourri, being disinclined for any more
reasonable occupation, partly by the thundery oppressiveness of the air,
partly by a vague, dull feeling of dread that made me restless, and
which was yet one of those phases of feeling in which, if life depended
on an energetic movement, one must trifle. In this mood, when the
foreclouded mind instinctively shrinks from its own great troubles,
little things assume an extraordinary distinctness. I trode carefully in
the patterns of the terrace pavement, counted the roses on the white
bush by the dial (there were twenty-six), and seeing a beetle on the
path, moved it to a bank at some distance. There it crept into a hole,
and such a wild, weary desire seized on me to creep after it and hide
from what was coming, that--I thought it wise to go in.
As I sat in the drawing-room there was a rose still whole in my lap. I
had begun to pluck off the petals, when the door-bell rang. Though I
heard the voice distinctly when the door was opened, I vow to you, dear
Nell, that my chief desire was to get the rose pulled to pieces before I
was disturbed. I had flung the last petal into my lap, when the door
opened and Mr. Manners came into the room.
He did not speak; he opened his arms, and I ran straight into them,
roses and all. The petals rained over us and over the floor. He talked
very fast, and I did nothing but cling to him, and endure in silence the
weight which his presence could not remove from my mind, while he
pleaded passionately for our marriage. He said that it was the extreme
of all that was unreasonable, that our lives' happiness should be
sacrificed to the insane freak of a hardly responsible mind. He
complained bitterly (though I could but confess justly!) of the
insulting and intolerable treatment that he had received. He had come,
he said, in the first place, to assure himself of my constancy--in the
second, for a powerful and final remonstrance with my brother--and, if
that failed, to remind me that I should be of age next month; and to
convey the entreaty of the Tophams that, as a last resource, I would
come to them and be married from their house. I made up my mind, and
promised: then I implored him to be careful in his interview with my
brother, for my sake--to calm his own natural anger, and to remember
Edmund's infirmity. He promised, but I saw that he was slightly piqued
by my dwelling so much on Edmund's feelings rather than on his. Ah!
Nelly, he had never seen one of the poor boy's rages.
It may have been half-past six when Mr. Manners arrived; it had just
struck a quarter to nine when Edmund came in and found us together. He
paused for a minute, clicking his tongue in his mouth, in a way he had
when excited; and then he turned upon me, and heaped abuse on insult,
loading me with accusations and reproaches. George, white with
suppressed rage, called incessantly upon me to go; and at last I dared
disobey no longer; but as I went I touched his arm and whispered,
"Remember! for my sake." His intense "I promise, my darling," comforted
me then--and afterwards, Nelly. I went into a little room that opened
into the hall and waited.
In about twenty minutes the drawing-room door opened, and they came out.
I heard George's voice saying this or something equivalent (afterwards
I could not accurately recall the words)--
"Good-night, Mr. Lascelles; I trust our next meeting may be a different
one."
The next sentences on both sides I lost. Edmund seems to have refused to
shake hands with Mr. Manners. The last words I heard were George's
half-laughing--
"Next time, Lascelles, I shall not ask for your hand--I shall take it."
Then the door shut, and Edmund went into his study. An hour later he
also went out, and I was left alone once more. I went back into the
drawing-room; the rose-leaves were fading on the floor; and on the table
lay George Manners' penknife. It was a new one, that he had been showing
to me, and had left behind him. I kissed it and put it in my pocket:
then I knelt down by the chair, Nell, and wept till I prayed; and then
prayed till I wept again; and then I got up and tidied the room, and got
some sewing; and, like other women, sat down with my trouble, waiting
for the storm to break.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|