He Knew He Was Right - Anthony Trollope (rainbow fish read aloud txt) 📗
- Author: Anthony Trollope
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would see him. She had a dim perception that she was standing on the
edge of a precipice, on broken ground which might fall under her
without a moment’s warning, and yet she would not retreat from the
danger. Though Colonel Osborne was wrong, very wrong in coming to see
her, yet she liked him for coming. Though she would be half afraid to
tell her news to Mrs Stanbury, and more than half afraid to tell
Priscilla, yet she liked the excitement of the fear. Nora would scold
her; but Nora’s scolding she thought she could answer. And then it was
not the fact that Colonel Osborne was coming down to Devonshire to see
her. He was coming as far as Lessboro’ to see his friend at
Cockchaffington. And when at Lessboro’, was it likely that he should
leave the neighbourhood without seeing the daughter of his old ally?
And why should he do so?
Was he to be unnatural in his conduct, uncivil, and unfriendly, because
Mr Trevelyan had been foolish, suspicious, and insane?
So arguing with herself, she answered Colonel Osborne’s letter before
she had spoken on the subject to any one in the house and this was her
answer:
‘My dear Colonel Osborne,
I must leave it to your own judgment to decide whether you will come to
Nuncombe Putney or not. There are reasons which would seem to make it
expedient that you should stay away even though circumstances are
bringing you into the immediate neighbourhood. But of these reasons I
will leave you to be the judge. I will never let it be said that I
myself have had cause to dread the visit of any old friend.
Nevertheless, if you stay away, I shall understand why you do so.
Personally, I shall be glad to see you as I have always been. It seems
odd to me that I cannot write in warmer tones to my father’s and
mother’s oldest friend. Of course, you will understand that though I
shall readily see you if you call, I cannot ask you to stay. In the
first place, I am not now living in my own house. I am staying with Mrs
Stanbury, and the place is called the Clock House.
Yours very sincerely,
Emily Trevelyan.’
The Clock House, Nuncombe Putney, Monday.’
Soon after she had written it, Nora came into her room, and at once
asked concerning the letter which she had seen delivered to her sister
that morning.
‘It was from Colonel Osborne,’ said Mrs Trevelyan.
‘From Colonel Osborne! How very wrong!’
‘I don’t see that it is wrong at all. Because Louis is foolish and mad,
that cannot make another man wrong for doing the most ordinary thing in
the world.’
‘I had hoped it had been from Louis,’ said Nora.
‘Oh dear, no. He is by no means so considerate. I do not suppose I
shall hear from him, till he chooses to give some fresh order about
myself or my child. He will hardly trouble himself to write to me,
unless he take up some new freak to show me that he is my master.
‘And what does Colonel Osborne say?’
‘He is coming here.’
‘Coming here?’ almost shouted Nora.
‘Yes; absolutely here. Does it sound to you as if Lucifer himself were
about to show his face. The fact is he happens to have a friend in the
neighbourhood whom he has long promised to visit; and as he must be at
Lessboro’, he does not choose to go away without the compliment of a
call. It will be as much to you as to me.’
‘I don’t want to see him in the least,’ said Nora.
‘There is his letter. As you seem to be so suspicious you had better
read it.’
Then Nora read it.
‘And there is a copy of my answer,’ said Mrs Trevelyan. ‘I shall keep
both, because I know so well what ill-natured things people will say.’
‘Dear Emily, do not send it,’ said Nora.
‘Indeed I shall. I will not be frightened by bugbears And I will not be
driven to confess to any man on earth that I am afraid to see him. Why
should I be afraid of Colonel Osborne? I will not submit to acknowledge
that there can be any danger in Colonel Osborne. Were I to do so I
should be repeating the insult against myself. If my husband wished to
guide me in such matters why did he not stay with me?’
Then she went out into the village and posted the letter. Nora
meanwhile was thinking whether she would call in the assistance of
Priscilla Stanbury; but she did not like to take any such a step in
opposition to her sister.
SHEWING HOW COLONEL OSBORNE WENT TO NUNCOMBE PUTNEY
Colonel Osborne was expected at Nuncombe Putney on the Friday, and, it
was Thursday evening before either Mrs Stanbury or Priscilla was told
of his coming. Emily had argued the matter with Nora, declaring that
she would make the communication herself, and that she would make it
when she pleased, and how she pleased. ‘If Mrs Stanbury thinks,’ said
she, ‘that I am going to be treated as a prisoner, or that I will not
judge myself as to whom I may see, or whom I may not see, she is very
much mistaken.’ Nora felt that were she to give information to those
ladies in opposition to her sister’s wishes, she would express
suspicion on her own part by doing so; and she was silent. On that same
Thursday Priscilla had written her last defiant letter to her aunt, that
letter in which she had cautioned her aunt to make no further
accusation without being sure of her facts. To Priscilla’s imagination
that coming of Lucifer in person, of which Mrs Trevelyan had spoken,
would hardly have been worse than the coming of Colonel Osborne. When,
therefore, Mrs Trevelyan declared the fact on the Thursday evening,
vainly endeavouring to speak of the threatened visit in an ordinary
voice, and as of an ordinary circumstance, it was as though a
thunderbolt had fallen upon them.
‘Colonel Osborne coming here!’ said Priscilla, mindful of the Stanbury
correspondence mindful of the evil tongues of the world.
‘And why not?’ demanded Mrs Trevelyan, who had heard nothing of the
Stanbury correspondence.
‘Oh dear, oh dear!’ ejaculated Mrs Stanbury, who, of course, was aware
of all that had passed between the Clock House and the house in the
Close, though the letters had been written by her daughter.
Nora was determined to stand up for her sister, whatever might be the
circumstances of the case. ‘I wish Colonel Osborne were not coming,’
said she, ‘because it makes a foolish fuss; but I cannot understand how
anybody can suppose it to be wrong that Emily should see papa’s very
oldest friend in the world.’
‘But why is he coming?’ demanded Priscilla.
‘Because he wants to see an acquaintance at Cockchaffington;’ said Mrs
Trevelyan; ‘and there is a wonderful church-door there.’
‘A church-fiddlestick!’ said Priscilla.
The matter was debated throughout all the evening. At one time there
was a great quarrel between the ladies, and then there was a
reconciliation. The point on which Mrs Trevelyan stood with the
greatest firmness was this that it did not become her, as a married
woman ‘whose conduct had always been good and who was more careful as
to that than she was even of her name, to be ashamed to meet any man.
‘Why should I not see Colonel Osborne, or Colonel anybody else who
might call here with the same justification for calling which his old
friendship gives him?’ Priscilla endeavoured to explain to her that her
husband’s known wishes ought to hinder her from doing so. ‘My husband
should have remained with me, to express his wishes,’ Mrs Trevelyan
replied.
Neither could Mrs Stanbury nor could Priscilla bring herself to say
that the man should not be admitted into the house. In the course of
the debate, in the heat of her anger, Mrs Trevelyan declared that were
any such threat held out to her, she would leave the house and see
Colonel Osborne in the Street, or at the inn.
‘No, Emily; no,’ said Nora.
‘But I will. I will not submit to be treated as a guilty woman, or as a
prisoner. They may say what they like, but I won’t be shut up.’
‘No one has tried to shut you up,’ said Priscilla.
‘You are afraid of that old woman at Exeter,’ said Mrs Trevelyan; for
by this time the facts of the Stanbury correspondence had all been
elicited in general conversation; ‘and yet you know how uncharitable
and malicious she is.’
‘We are not afraid of her,’ said Priscilla. ‘We are afraid of nothing
but of doing wrong.’
‘And will it be wrong to let an old gentleman come into the house,’
said Nora, ‘who is nearly sixty, and who has known us ever since we
were born?’
‘If he is nearly sixty, Priscilla,’ said Mrs Stanbury, ‘that does seem
to make a difference.’ Mrs Stanbury herself was only just sixty, and
she felt herself to be quite an old woman.
‘They may be devils at eighty,’ said Priscilla.
‘Colonel Osborne is not a devil at all,’ said Nora.
‘But mamma is so foolish,’ said Priscilla. ‘The man’s age does not
matter in the least.’
‘I beg your pardon, my dear,’ said Mrs Stanbury, very humbly.
At that time the quarrel was raging, but afterwards came the
reconciliation. Had it not been for the Stanbury correspondence the
fact of Colonel Osborne’s threatened visit would have been admitted as
a thing necessary, as a disagreeable necessity; but how was the visit to
be admitted and passed over in the teeth of that correspondence?
Priscilla felt very keenly the peculiar cruelty of her position. Of
course, Aunt Stanbury would hear of the visit. Indeed, any secrecy in
the matter was not compatible with Priscilla’s ideas of honesty. Her
aunt had apologised humbly for having said that Colonel Osborne had
been at Nuncombe. That apology, doubtless, had been due. Colonel
Osborne had not been at Nuncombe when the accusation had been made, and
the accusation had been unjust and false. But his coming had been
spoken of by Priscilla in her own letters as an occurrence which was
quite out of the question. Her anger against her aunt had been for
saying that the man had come, not for objecting to such a visit. And
now the man was coming, and Aunt Stanbury would know all about it. How
great, how terrible, how crushing would be Aunt Stanbury’s triumph!
‘I must write and tell her,’ said Priscilla.
‘I am sure I shall not object,’ said Mrs Trevelyan. ‘And Hugh must be
told,’ said Mrs Stanbury.
‘You may tell all the world, if you like,’ said Mrs Trevelyan.
In this way it was settled among them that Colonel Osborne was to be
received. On the next morning, Friday morning, Colonel Osborne,
doubtless having heard something of Mrs Crocket from his friend at
Cockchaffington, was up early, and had himself driven over to Nuncombe
Putney before breakfast. The ever-watchful Bozzle was, of course, at
his heels or rather, not at his heels on the first two miles of the
journey; for Bozzle, with painful zeal, had made himself aware of all
the facts, and had started on the Nuncombe Putney road half an hour
before the Colonel’s fly was in motion. And when the fly passed him he
was lying discreetly
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