And now, all these matters having been considered, what should she do? Her father had invited her to tell everything to him, and she was possessed by a feeling that in this matter she might possibly find more indulgence with her father than with her mother; but yet it was more natural that her mother should be her confidante and adviser. She could speak to her mother, also, with a better courage, even though she felt less certain of sympathy. Peregrine Orme had now been there again, and had been closeted With Lady Staveley. On that ground she would speak, and having so resolved she lost no time in carrying out her purpose.
“Mamma, Mr. Orme was here today; was he not?”
“Yes, my love.” Lady Staveley was sorry rather than otherwise that her daughter had asked her, but would have been puzzled to explain why such should have been the case.
“I thought so,” said Madeline.
“He rode over, and told me among other things that the match between his grandfather and Lady Mason is at an end. I was very glad to hear it, for I thought that Sir Peregrine was going to do a very foolish thing.” And then there were a few further remarks on that subject, made probably by Lady Staveley with some undefined intention of inducing her daughter to think that Peregrine Orme had come over chiefly on that matter.
“But, mamma—”
“Well, my love.”
“Did he say anything about—about what he was speaking to me about?”
“Well, Madeline; he did. He did say something on that subject; but I had not intended to tell you unless you had asked.”
“I hope, mamma, he understands that what he wants can never happen;—that is if he does want it now?”
“He does want it certainly, my dear.”
“Then I hope you told him that it can never be? I hope you did, mamma!”
“But why should you be so certain about it, my love? He does not intend to trouble you with his suit—nor do I. Why not leave that to time? There can be no reason why you should not see him again on a friendly footing when this embarrassment between you shall have passed away.”
“There would be no reason, mamma, if he were quite sure that there could never be any other footing.”
“Never is a very long word.”
“But it is the only true word, mamma. It would be wrong in you, it would indeed, if you were to tell him to come again. I like Mr. Orme very much as a friend, and I should be very glad to know him—that is if he chose to know me.” And Madeline as she made this little proviso was thinking what her own worldly position might be as the wife of Felix Graham. “But as it is quite impossible that he and I should ever be anything else to each other, he should not be asked to come here with any other intention.”
“But Madeline, I do not see that it is so impossible.”
“Mamma, it is impossible; quite impossible!” To this assertion Lady Staveley made no answer in words, but there was that in her countenance which made her daughter understand that she did not quite agree in this assertion, or understand this impossibility.
“Mamma, it is quite, quite impossible!” Madeline repeated.
“But why so?” said Lady Staveley, frightened by her daughter’s manner, and almost fearing that something further was to come which had by far better be left unsaid.
“Because, mamma, I have no love to give him. Oh, mamma, do not be angry with me; do not push me away. You know who it is that I love. You knew it before.” And then she threw herself on her knees, and hid her face on her mother’s lap.
Lady Staveley had known it, but up to that moment she had hoped that that knowledge might have remained hidden as though it were unknown.
LI
Mrs. Furnival’s Journey to Hamworth
When Peregrine got back to The Cleeve he learned that there was a lady with his mother. He had by this time partially succeeded in reasoning himself out of his despondency. He had learned at any rate that his proposition to marry into the Staveley family had been regarded with favour by all that family except the one whose views on that subject were by far the most important to him; and he had learned, as he thought, that Lady Staveley had no suspicion that her daughter’s heart was preoccupied. But in this respect Lady Staveley had been too cunning for him. “Wait!” he said to himself as he went slowly along the road. “It’s all very well to say wait, but there are some things which won’t bear waiting for. A man who waits never gets well away with the hounds.” Nevertheless as he rode into the courtyard his hopes were somewhat higher than they had been when he rode out of it.
“A lady! what lady? You don’t mean Lady Mason?”
No. The servant did not mean Lady Mason. It was an elderly
