“I will not think that falsehood and fraud can prevail,” said Sir Peregrine proudly.
“But they do prevail sometimes,” said Mr. Furnival. And then with much outer dignity of demeanour, but with some shamefaced tremblings of the inner man hidden under the guise of that outer dignity, Sir Peregrine informed the lawyer of his great purpose.
“Indeed!” said Mr. Furnival, throwing himself back into his chair with a start.
“Yes, Mr. Furnival. I should not have taken the liberty to trouble you with a matter so private in its nature, but for your close professional intimacy and great friendship with Lady Mason.”
“Oh, indeed!” said Mr. Furnival; and the baronet could understand from the lawyer’s tone that even he did not approve.
XXXIX
Why Should He Go?
“I am well aware, Mr. Staveley, that you are one of those gentlemen who amuse themselves by frequently saying such things to girls. I had learned your character in that respect before I had been in the house two days.”
“Then, Miss Furnival, you learned what was very false. May I ask who has blackened me in this way in your estimation?” It will be easily seen from this that Mr. Augustus Staveley and Miss Furnival were at the present moment alone together in one of the rooms at Noningsby.
“My informant,” she replied, “has been no one special sinner whom you can take by the throat and punish. Indeed, if you must shoot anybody, it should be chiefly yourself, and after that your father, and mother, and sisters. But you need not talk of being black. Such sins are venial nowadays, and convey nothing deeper than a light shade of brown.”
“I regard a man who can act in such a way as very base.”
“Such a way as what, Mr. Staveley?”
“A man who can win a girl’s heart for his own amusement.”
“I said nothing about the winning of hearts. That is treachery of the worst dye; but I acquit you of any such attempt. When there is a question of the winning of hearts men look so different.”
“I don’t know how they look,” said Augustus, not altogether satisfied as to the manner in which he was being treated—“but such has been my audacity—my too great audacity on the present occasion.”
“You are the most audacious of men, for your audacity would carry you to the feet of another lady tomorrow without the slightest check.”
“And that is the only answer I am to receive from you?”
“It is quite answer enough. What would you have me do? Get up and decline the honour of being Mrs. Augustus Staveley with a curtsy?”
“No—I would have you do nothing of the kind. I would have you get up and accept the honour—with a kiss.”
“So that you might have the kiss, and I might have the—; I was going to say disappointment, only that would be untrue. Let me assure you that I am not so demonstrative in my tokens of regard.”
“I wonder whether you mean that you are not so honest?”
“No, Mr. Staveley; I mean nothing of the kind; and you are very impertinent to express such a supposition. What have I done or said to make you suppose that I have lost my heart to you?”
“As you have mine, it is at any rate human nature in me to hope that I might have yours.”
“Psha! your heart! You have been making a shuttlecock of it till it is doubtful whether you have not banged it to pieces. I know two ladies who carry in their caps two feathers out of it. It is so easy to see when a man is in love. They all go cross-gartered like Malvolio;—cross-gartered in their looks and words and doings.”
“And there is no touch of all this in me?”
“You cross-gartered! You have never got so far yet as a lack-a-daisical twist to the corner of your mouth. Did you watch Mr. Orme before he went away?”
“Why; was he cross-gartered?”
“But you men have no eyes; you never see anything. And your idea of lovemaking is to sit under a tree wishing, wondering whether the ripe fruit will fall down into your mouth. Ripe fruit does sometimes fall, and then it is all well with you. But if it won’t, you pass on and say that it is sour. As for climbing—”
“The fruit generally falls too fast to admit of such exercise,” said Staveley, who did not choose that all the sharp things should be said on the other side.
“And that is the result of your very extended experience? The orchards which have been opened to you have not, I fear, been of the first quality. Mr. Staveley, my hand will do very well by itself. Such is not the sort of climbing that is required. That is what I call stooping to pick up the fruit that has fallen.” And as she spoke, she moved a little away from him on the sofa.
“And how is a man to climb?”
“Do you really mean that you want a lesson? But if I were to tell you, my words would be thrown away. Men will not labour who have gotten all that they require without work. Why strive to deserve any woman, when women are plenty who do not care to be deserved? That plan of picking up the fallen apples is so much the easier.”
The lesson might perhaps have been given, and Miss Furnival might have imparted to Mr. Staveley her idea of “excelsior” in the matter of lovemaking, had not Mr. Staveley’s mother come into the room at that
