He Knew He Was Right - Anthony Trollope (rainbow fish read aloud txt) 📗
- Author: Anthony Trollope
- Performer: -
Book online «He Knew He Was Right - Anthony Trollope (rainbow fish read aloud txt) 📗». Author Anthony Trollope
demanded whether, if he did so, the promise which he exacted would
be given. It is to be feared that Nora perverted the truth a little;
but if ever such perversion may be forgiven, forgiveness was due
to her. If they could only be brought together, she was sure that
there would be a reconciliation. They were brought together, and
there was a reconciliation.
‘Dearest Emily, I am so glad to come to you,’ said the husband,
walking up to his wife in their bedroom, and taking her in his
arms.
‘I have been very unhappy, Louis, for the last two days,’ said she,
very gravely returning his kiss, but returning it somewhat coldly.
‘We have both been unhappy, I am sure,’ said he. Then he paused
that the promise might be made to him. He had certainly understood
that it was to be made without reserve as an act on her part which
she had fully consented to perform. But she stood silent, with one
hand on the dressing table, looking away from him, very beautiful,
and dignified too, in her manner; but not, as far as he could judge,
either repentant or submissive. ‘Nora said that you would make me
the promise which I ask from you.’
‘I cannot think, Louis, how you can want such a promise from me.’
‘I think it right to ask it; I do indeed.’
‘Can you imagine that I shall ever willingly see this gentleman again
after what has occurred? It will be for you to tell the servant.
I do not know how I can do that. But, as a matter of course, I will
encourage no person to come to your house of whom you disapprove.
It would be exactly the same of any man or of any woman.’ ‘That is
all that I ask.’
‘I am surprised that you should have thought it necessary to make
any formal request in the matter. Your word was quite sufficient.
That you should find cause of complaint in Colonel Osborne’s coming
here is of course a different thing.’
Quite a different thing,’ said he.
I cannot pretend to understand either your motives or your fears.
I do not understand them. My own self-respect prevents me from
supposing it to be possible that you have attributed an evil thought
to me.’
Indeed, indeed, I never have,’ said the husband.
‘That I can assure you I regard as a matter of course,’ said the
wife.
‘But you know, Emily, the way in which the world talks.’
‘The world! And do you regard the world, Louis?’
‘Lady Milborough, I believe, spoke to yourself.’
‘Lady Milborough! No, she did not speak to me. She began to do so,
but I was careful to silence her at once. From you, Louis, I am
bound to hear whatever you may choose to say to me; but I will not
hear from any other lips a single word that may be injurious to
your honour.’ This she said very quietly, with much dignity, and
he felt that he had better not answer her. She had given him the
promise which he had demanded, and he began to fear that if he
pushed the matter further she might go back even from that amount
of submission. So he kissed her again, and had the boy brought into
the room, and by the time that he went to dress for dinner he was
able, at any rate, to seem to be well pleased.
‘Richard,’ he said to the servant, as soon as he was downstairs,
‘when Colonel Osborne calls again, say’ that your mistress is not
at home.’ He gave the order in the most indifferent tone of voice
which he could assume; but as he gave it he felt thoroughly ashamed
of it. Richard, who, with the other servants, had of course known
that there had been a quarrel between his master and mistress for
the last two days, no doubt understood all about it.
While they were sitting at dinner on the next day, a Saturday,
there came another note from Colonel Osborne. The servant brought
it to his mistress, and she, when she had looked at it, put it down
by her plate. Trevelyan knew immediately from whom the letter had
come, and understood how impossible it was for his wife to give
it up in the servant’s presence. The letter lay there till the man
was out of the room, and then she handed it to Nora. ‘Will you give
that to Louis?’ she said. ‘It comes from the man whom he supposes
to be my lover.’
‘Emily!’ said he, jumping from his seat, ‘how can you allow words
so horrible and so untrue to fall from your mouth?’ ‘If it be not
so, why am I to be placed in such a position as this? The servant
knows, of course, from whom the letter comes, and sees that I have
been forbidden to open it.’ Then the man returned to the room, and
the remainder of the dinner passed off almost in silence. It was
their custom when they dined without company to leave the dining-room
together, but on this evening Trevelyan remained for a few minutes
that he might read Colonel Osborne’s letter, He waited, standing on
the rug with his face to the fireplace, till he was quite alone,
and then he opened it. It ran as follows:
‘House of Commons, Saturday.
‘DEAR EMILY,’ Trevelyan, as he read this, cursed Colonel Osborne
between his teeth.
‘DEAR EMILY,
I called this afternoon, but you were out. I am afraid you will be
disappointed by what I have to tell you, but you should rather be
glad of it. They say at the C.O. that Sir Marmaduke would not receive
their letter if sent now till the middle of June, and that he could
not be in London, let him do what he would, till the end of July.
They hope to have the session over by that time, and therefore the
committee is to be put off till next session. They mean to have Lord
Bowles home from Canada, and they think that Bowles would like to
be here in the winter. Sir Marmaduke will be summoned for February
next, and will of course stretch his stay over the hot months. All
this will, on the whole, be for the best. Lady Rowley could hardly
have packed up her things and come away at a day’s notice, whatever
your father might have done. I’ll call tomorrow at luncheon time.
Yours always,
F. O.’
There was nothing objectionable in this letter excepting always
the ‘Dear Emily’ nothing which it was not imperative on Colonel
Osborne to communicate to the person to whom it was addressed.
Trevelyan must now go upstairs and tell the contents of the letter
to his wife. But he felt that he had created for himself a terrible
trouble. He must tell his wife what was in the letter, but the very
telling of it would be a renewing of the soreness of his wound.
And then what was to be done in reference to the threatened visit
for the Sunday morning? Trevelyan knew very well that were his wife
denied at that hour, Colonel Osborne would understand the whole
matter. He had doubtless in his anger intended that Colonel Osborne
should understand the whole matter; but he was calmer now than he
had been then, and almost wished that the command given by him had
not been so definite and imperious. He remained with his arm on the
mantel-piece, thinking of it, for some ten minutes, and then went
up into the drawing-room. ‘Emily,’ he said, walking up to the table
at which she was sitting, ‘you had better read that letter.’
‘I would so much rather not,’ she replied haughtily.
‘Then Nora can read it. It concerns you both equally.’
Nora, with hesitating hand, took the letter and read it. ‘They are
not to come after all,’ said she, ‘till next February.’
‘And why not?’ asked Mrs Trevelyan.
‘Something about the session. I don’t quite understand.’
‘Lord Bowles is to come from Canada,’ said Louis, ‘and they think
he would prefer being here in the winter. I dare say he would.’
‘But what has that to do with papa?’
‘I suppose they must both be here together,’ said Nora.
‘I call that very hard indeed,’ said Mrs Trevelyan.
‘I can’t agree with you there,’ said her husband. ‘His coming at
all is so much of a favour that it is almost a job.’
‘I don’t see that it is a job at all,’ said Mrs Trevelyan. ‘Somebody
is wanted, and nobody can know more of the service than papa does.
But as the other man is a lord I suppose papa must give way. Does
he say anything about mamma, Nora?’
‘You had better read the letter yourself,’ said Trevelyan, who was
desirous that his wife should know of the threatened visit.
‘No, Louis, I shall not do that. You must not blow hot and cold
too. Till the other day I should have thought that Colonel Osborne’s
letters were as innocent as an old newspaper. As you have supposed
them to be poisoned I will have nothing to do with them.’
This speech made him very angry. It seemed that his wife, who
had yielded to him, was determined to take out the value of her
submission in the most disagreeable words which she could utter.
Nora now closed the letter and handed it back to her brother-in-law.
He laid it down on the table beside him, and sat for a while with
his eyes fixed upon his book. At last he spoke again. ‘Colonel
Osborne says that he will call tomorrow at luncheon time. You can
admit him, if you please, and thank him for the trouble he has
taken in this matter.’
‘I shall not remain in the room if he be admitted,’ said Mrs
Trevelyan.
There was silence again for some minutes, and the cloud upon
Trevelyan’s brow became blacker than before. Then he rose from his
chair and walked round to the sofa on which his wife was sitting.
‘I presume,’ said he, ‘that your wishes and mine in this matter
must be the same.’
‘I cannot tell what your wishes are,’ she replied. ‘I never was
more in the dark on any subject in my life. My wishes at present
are confined to a desire to save you as far as may be possible from
the shame which must be attached to your own suspicions.’
‘I have never had any suspicions.’
‘A husband without suspicions does not intercept his wife’s
letters. A husband without suspicions does not call in the aid of
his servants to guard his wife. A husband without suspicions.’
‘Emily,’ exclaimed Nora Rowley, ‘how can you say such things on
purpose to provoke him?’
‘Yes; on purpose to provoke me,’ said Trevelyan.
‘And have I not been provoked? Have I not been injured? You say
now that you have not suspected me, and yet in what condition do I
find myself? Because an old woman has chosen to talk scandal about
me, I am placed in a position in my own house which is disgraceful
to you and insupportable to myself. This man has been in the habit
of coming here on Sundays, and will, of course, know that we are
at home. You must manage it as you please. If you choose to receive
him, I will go upstairs.’
‘Why can’t you let him come in and go away, just as usual?’ said
Comments (0)