“I suppose not.”
“Certainly not; and therefore I conceive that Lady Cantrip will not do so either.”
“I wish she were here.”
“It would be of no use. I should be a dragon in guarding her.”
“I wish you would let me feel that you were like a sister to me in this matter.”
“But I am not your sister, nor yet your aunt, nor yet your grandmother. What I mean is that I cannot be on your side.”
“Can you not?”
“No, Mr. Tregear. Think how long I have known these other people.”
“But just now you said that he was your enemy.”
“I did say so; but as I have unsaid it since, you as a gentleman will not remember my words. At any rate I cannot help you in this.”
“I shall write to her.”
“It can be nothing to me. If you write she will show your letter either to her father or to Lady Cantrip.”
“But she will read it first.”
“I cannot tell how that may be. In fact I am the very last person in the world to whom you should come for assistance in this matter. If I gave any assistance to anybody I should be bound to give it to the Duke.”
“I cannot understand that, Mrs. Finn.”
“Nor can I explain it, but it would be so. I shall always be very glad to see you, and I do feel that we ought to be friends—because I took such a liberty with you. But in this matter I cannot help you.”
When she said this he had to take his leave. It was impossible that he should further press his case upon her, though he would have been very glad to extract from her some kindly word. It is such a help in a difficulty to have somebody who will express even a hope that the difficulty is perhaps not invincible! He had no one to comfort him in this matter. There was one dear friend—as a friend dearer than any other—to whom he might go, and who would after some fashion bid him prosper. Mabel would encourage him. She had said that she would do so. But in making that promise she had told him that Romeo would not have spoken of his love for Juliet to Rosaline, whom he had loved before he saw Juliet. No doubt she had gone on to tell him that he might come to her and talk freely of his love for Lady Mary—but after what had been said before, he felt that he could not do so without leaving a sting behind. When a man’s love goes well with him—so well as to be in some degree oppressive to him even by its prosperity—when the young lady has jumped into his arms and the father and mother have been quite willing, then he wants no confidant. He does not care to speak very much of the matter which among his friends is apt to become a subject for raillery. When you call a man Benedick he does not come to you with ecstatic descriptions of the beauty and the wit of his Beatrice. But no one was likely to call him Benedick in reference to Lady Mary.
In spite of his manner, in spite of his apparent self-sufficiency, this man was very soft within. Less than two years back he had been willing to sacrifice all the world for his cousin Mabel, and his cousin Mabel had told him that he was wrong. “It does not pay to sacrifice the world for love.” So cousin Mabel had said, and had added something as to its being necessary that she should marry a rich man, and expedient that he should marry a rich woman. He had thought much about it, and had declared to himself that on no account would he marry a woman for her money. Then he had encountered Lady Mary Palliser. There had been no doubt, no resolution after that, no thinking about it;—but downright love. There was nothing left of real regret for his cousin in his bosom. She had been right. That love had been impossible. But this would be possible—ah, so deliciously possible—if only her father and mother would assist! The mother, imprudent in this as in all things, had assented. The reader knows the rest.
It was in every way possible. “She will have money enough,” the Duchess had said, “if only her father can be brought to give it you.” So Tregear had set his heart upon it, and had said to himself that the thing was to be done. Then his friend the Duchess had died, and the real difficulties had commenced. From that day he had not seen his love, or heard from her. How was he to know whether she would be true to him? And where was he to seek for that sympathy which he felt to be so necessary to him? A wild idea had come into his head that Mrs. Finn would be his friend;—but she had repudiated him.
He went straight home and at once wrote to the girl. The letter was a simple love-letter, and as such need not be given here. In what sweetest language he could find he assured her that even though he should never be allowed to see her or to hear from her, that still he should cling to her. And then he added this passage: “If your love for me be what I think it to be, no one can have a right to keep us apart. Pray be sure that I shall not change. If you change let me know it;—but I shall as soon expect the heavens to fall.”
XXIV
“She Must Be Made to Obey”
Lady Mary Palliser down at The Horns had as much liberty allowed to her as is usually given to young ladies in these very free days. There was indeed no restriction placed upon her at all. Had Tregear
