Augusta was less strong in her feelings than her parents, but of course she disliked the man who could admire Rachel Ray. As regards Martha, her dislike to him—or rather, her judicial disapproval—was founded on his social and commercial improprieties. She understood that he had threatened her father about the business—and she had been scandalized in that matter of the champagne. Cherry was very brave, and still stood up for him before her mother and sisters;—but even Cherry did not dare to say a word in his favour before her father. Mr. Tappitt had been driven to forget himself, and to take a poker in his hand as a weapon of violence! After that let no one speak a word on the offender’s behalf in Tappitt’s house and within Tappitt’s hearing!
In that affair of the champagne Rowan was most bitterly injured. He had ordered it, if not at the request, at least at the instigation of Mrs. Tappitt;—and he had paid for it. When he left Baslehurst he owed no shilling to any man in it; and, indeed, he was a man by no means given to owing money to anyone. He was of a spirit masterful, self-confident, and perhaps self-glorious;—but he was at the same time honest and independent. That wine had been ordered in some unusual way—not at the regular counter, and in the same way the bill for it had been paid. Griggs, when he made his assertion in the barroom at the King’s Head, had stated what he believed to be the truth. The next morning he chanced to hear that the account had been settled, but not, at the moment, duly marked off the books. As far as Griggs went that was the end of it. He did not again say that Rowan owed money to him; but he never contradicted his former assertion, and allowed the general report to go on—that report which had been founded on his own first statement. Thus before Rowan had been a week out of the place it was believed all over the town that he had left unpaid bills behind him.
“I am told that young man is dreadfully in debt,” said Mr. Prong to Mrs. Prime. At this time Mr. Prong and Mrs. Prime saw each other daily, and were affectionate in their intercourse—with a serious, solemn affection; but affairs were by no means settled between them. That affection was, however, strong enough to induce Mr. Prong to take a decided part in opposing the Rowan alliance. “They say he owes money all over the town.”
“So Miss Pucker tells me,” said Mrs. Prime.
“Does your mother know it?”
“Mother never knows anything that other people know. But he has gone now, and I don’t suppose we shall hear of him or see him again.”
“He has not written to her, Dorothea?”
“Not that I know of.”
“You should find out. You should not leave them in this danger. Your mother is weak, and you should give her the aid of your strength. The girl is your sister, and you should not leave her to grope in darkness. You should remember, Dorothea, that you have a duty in this matter.”
Dorothea did not like being told of her duty in so pastoral a manner, and resolved to be more than ever particular in the protection of her own pecuniary rights before she submitted herself to Mr. Prong’s marital authority once and forever. By Miss Pucker she was at any rate treated with great respect, and was allowed perhaps some display of pastoral manner on her own part. It began to be with her a matter of doubt whether she might not be of more use in that free vineyard which she was about to leave, than in that vineyard with closed doors and a pastoral overseer, which she was preparing herself to enter. At any rate she would be careful about the money. But, in the meantime, she did agree with Mr. Prong that Rowan’s proper character should be made known to her mother, and with this view she went out to the cottage and whispered into Mrs. Ray’s astonished ears the fact that Luke was terribly in debt.
“You don’t say so!”
“But I do say so, mother. Everybody in Baslehurst is talking about it. And they all say that he has treated Mr. Tappitt shamefully. Has anything come from him since he went?”
Then Mrs. Ray told her elder daughter of the letter, and told her also that she intended to consult Mr. Comfort. “Oh, Mr. Comfort!” said Mrs. Prime, signifying her opinion that her mother was going to a very poor counsellor. “And what sort of a letter was it?” said Mrs. Prime, with a not unnatural desire to see it.
“It was an honest letter enough—very honest to my thinking; and speaking as though everything between them was quite settled.”
“That’s nonsense, mother.”
“Perhaps it may be nonsense, Dorothea; but I am only telling you what the letter said. He called his mother a goose; that was the worst thing in it.”
“You cannot expect that such a one as he should honour his parents.”
“But his mother thinks him the finest young man in the world. And I must say this for him, that he has always spoken of her as though he loved her very dearly; and I believe he has been a most excellent son. He shouldn’t have said
