He Knew He Was Right - Anthony Trollope (rainbow fish read aloud txt) 📗

had seemed that he had thrown upon her. But this was now forgotten,

and she remembered only his weakness. ‘Mamma,’ she said, ‘I will go. It

is my duty to go to him.’ But Lady Rowley withheld her, explaining that

were she to go, the mission might probably fail in its express purpose.

‘Let Louey be sent to us first,’ said Lady Rowley, ‘and then we will

see what can be done afterwards.’

 

And so Mr Glascock started, taking with him a maidservant who might

help him with the charge of the child. It was certainly very hard upon

him. In order to have time for his journey to Siena and back, and time

also to go out to Casalunga, it was necessary that he should leave the

Baths at five in the morning. ‘If ever there was a hero of romance, you

are he!’ said Nora to him.

 

‘The heroes of life are so much better than the heroes of romance,’

said Caroline.

 

‘That is a lesson from the lips of the American Browning,’ said Mr

Glascock. ‘Nevertheless, I think I would rather ride a charge against a

Paynim knight in Palestine than get up at half-past four in the

morning.’

 

‘We will get up too, and give the knight his coffee,’ said Nora. They

did get up, and saw him off; and when Mr Glascock and Caroline parted

with a lover’s embrace, Nora stood by as a sister might have done. Let

us hope that she remembered that her own time was coming.

 

There had been a promise given by Nora, when she left London, that she

would not correspond with Hugh Stanbury while she was in Italy, and

this promise had been kept. It may be remembered that Hugh had made a

proposition to his lady-love, that she should walk out of the house one

fine morning, and get herself married without any reference to her

father’s or her mother’s wishes. But she had not been willing to take

upon herself as yet independence so complete as this would have

required. She had assured her lover that she did mean to marry him some

day, even though it should be in opposition to her father, but that she

thought that the period for filial persuasion was not yet over; and

then, in explaining all this to her mother, she had given a promise

neither to write nor to receive letters during the short period of her

sojourn in Italy. She would be an obedient child for so long but, after

that, she must claim the right to fight her own battle. She had told

her lover that he must not write; and, of course, she had not written a

word herself. But now, when her mother threw it in her teeth that

Stanbury would not be ready to marry her, she thought that an unfair

advantage was being taken of her and of him. How could he be expected

to say that he was ready, deprived as he was of the power of saying

anything at all?

 

‘Mamma,’ she said, the day before they went to Florence, ‘has papa

fixed about your leaving England yet? I suppose you’ll go now on the

last Saturday in July?’

 

‘I suppose we shall, my dear.’

 

‘Has not papa written about the berths?’

 

‘I believe he has, my dear.’

 

‘Because he ought to know who are going. I will not go.

 

‘You will not, Nora. Is that a proper way of speaking?’

 

‘Dear mamma, I mean it to be proper. I hope it is proper. But is it not

best that we should understand each other. All my life depends on my

going or my staying now. I must decide.’

 

‘After what has passed, you do not, I suppose, mean to live in Mr

Glascock’s house?’

 

‘Certainly not. I mean to live with with with my husband. Mamma, I

promised not to write, and I have not written. And he has not written

because I told him not. Therefore, nothing is settled. But it is not

fair to throw it in my teeth that nothing is settled.’

 

‘I have thrown nothing in your teeth, Nora.’

 

‘Papa talks sneeringly about chairs and tables. Of course, I know what

he is thinking of. As I cannot go with him to the Mandarins, I think I

ought to be allowed to look after the chairs and tables.’

 

‘What do you mean, my dear?’

 

‘That you should absolve me from my promise, and let me write to Mr

Stanbury. I do not want to be left without a home.’

 

‘You cannot wish to write to a gentleman and ask him to marry you!’

 

‘Why not? We are engaged. I shall not ask him to marry me; that is

already settled; but I shall ask him to make arrangements.’

 

‘Your papa will be very angry if you break your word to him.’

 

‘I will write, and show you the letter. Papa may see it, and if he will

not let it go, it shall not go. He shall not say that I broke my word.

But, mamma, I will not go out to the Islands. I should never get back

again, and I should be broken-hearted.’ Lady Rowley had nothing to say

to this; and Nora went and wrote her letter. ‘Dear Hugh,’ the letter

ran, ‘Papa and mamma leave England on the last Saturday in July. I have

told mamma that I cannot return with them. Of course, you know why I

stay. Mr .Glascock is to be married the day after tomorrow, and they

have asked me to go with them to Monkhams some time in August. I think

I shall do so, unless Emily wants me to remain with her. At any rate, I

shall try to be with her till I go there. You will understand why I

tell you all this. Papa and mamma know that I am writing. It is only a

business letter, and, therefore, I shall say no more, except that I am

ever and always yours NORA.’ ‘There,’ she said, handing her letter to

her mother, ‘I think that ought to be sent. If papa chooses to prevent

its going, he can.’

 

Lady Rowley, when she handed the letter to her husband, recommended

that it should be allowed to go to its destination. She admitted that,

if they sent it, they would thereby signify their consent to her

engagement, and she alleged that Nora was so strong in her will, and

that the circumstances of their journey out to the Antipodes were so

peculiar, that it was of no avail for them any longer to oppose the

match. They could not force their daughter to go with them. ‘But I can

cast her off from me, if she be disobedient,’ said Sir Marmaduke. Lady

Rowley, however, had no desire that her daughter should be cast off,

and was aware that Sir Marmaduke, when it came to the point of casting

off, would be as little inclined to be stern as she was herself. Sir

Marmaduke, still hoping that firmness would carry the day, and

believing that it behoved him to maintain his parental authority, ended

the discussion by keeping possession of the letter, and saying that he

would take time to consider the matter. ‘What security have we that he

will ever marry her, if she does stay?’ he asked the next morning. Lady

Rowley had no doubt on this score, and protested that her opposition to

Hugh Stanbury arose simply from his want of income. ‘I should never be

justified,’ said Sir Marmaduke, ‘if I were to go and leave my girl as

it were in the hands of a penny-a-liner.’ The letter, in the end, was

not sent; and Nora and her father hardly spoke to each other as they

made their journey back to Florence together.

 

Emily Trevelyan, before the arrival of that letter from her husband,

had determined that she would not leave Italy. It had been her purpose

to remain somewhere in the neighbourhood of her husband and child; and

to overcome her difficulties or be overcome by them, as circumstances

might direct. Now her plans were again changed or, rather, she was now

without a plan. She could form no plan till she should again see Mr

Glascock. Should her child be restored to her, would it not be her duty

to remain near her husband? All this made Nora’s line of conduct the

more difficult for her. It was acknowledged that she could not remain

in Italy. Mrs Trevelyan’s position would be most embarrassing; but as

all her efforts were to be used towards a reconciliation with her

husband, and as his state utterly precluded the idea of a mixed

household, of any such a family arrangement as that which had existed in

Curzon Street, Nora could not remain with her. Mrs Trevelyan herself had

declared that she would not wish it. And, in that case, where was Nora

to bestow herself when Sir Marmaduke and Lady Rowley had sailed?

Caroline offered to curtail those honeymoon weeks in Switzerland, but

it was impossible to listen to an offer so magnanimous and so

unreasonable. Nora had a dim romantic idea of sharing Priscilla’s

bedroom in that small cottage near Nuncombe Putney, of which she had

heard, and of there learning lessons in strict economy; but of this she

said nothing. The short journey from the Baths of Lucca to Florence was

not a pleasant one, and the Rowley family were much disturbed as they

looked into the future. Lodgings had now been taken for them, and there

was the great additional doubt whether Mrs Trevelyan would find her

child there on her arrival.

 

The Spaldings went one way from the Florence station, and the Rowleys

another. The American Minister had returned to the city some days

previously, drawn there nominally by pleas of business, but, in truth,

by the necessities of the wedding breakfast, and he met them at the

station. ‘Has Mr Glascock come back?’ Nora was the first to ask. Yes he

had come. He had been in the city since two o’clock, and had been up at

the American Minister’s house for half a minute. ‘And has he brought

the child?’ asked Caroline, relieved of doubt on her own account. Mr

Spalding did not know; indeed, he had not interested himself quite so

intently about Mrs Trevelyan’s little boy, as had all those who had

just returned from the Baths. Mr Glascock had said nothing to him about

the child, and he had not quite understood why such a man should have

made a journey to Siena, leaving his sweetheart behind him, just on the

eve of his marriage. He hurried his women-kind into their carriage, and

they were driven away; and then Sir Marmaduke was driven away with his

women-kind. Caroline Spalding had perhaps thought that Mr Glascock

might have been there to meet her.