He Knew He Was Right by Anthony Trollope (ebook reader with internet browser txt) 📖
- Author: Anthony Trollope
- Performer: -
Book online «He Knew He Was Right by Anthony Trollope (ebook reader with internet browser txt) 📖». Author Anthony Trollope
remember, Martha, I don’t want to have his name mentioned again in
the house. You will tell them all so, if you please.’
‘He was a very nice gentleman, ma’am.’
‘Martha, I won’t have it; and there’s an end of it. I won’t have
it. Perhaps I know what goes to the making of a nice gentleman as
well as you do.’
‘Mr Hugh, ma’am.’
‘I won’t have it, Martha. And when I say so, let there be an end
of it.’ As she said this, she got up from her chair, and shook her
head, and took a turn about the room. ‘If I’m not mistress here,
I’m nobody.’
‘Of course you’re mistress here, ma’am.’
‘And if I don’t know what’s fit to be done, and what’s not fit,
I’m too old to learn; and, what’s more, I won’t be taught. I’m
not going to have my house crammed with radical incendiary stuff,
printed with ink that stinks, on paper made out of straw. If I
can’t live without penny literature, at any rate I’ll die without
it. Now listen to me.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘I have asked Mrs Stanbury to send one of the girls over here.’
‘To live, ma’am?’ Martha’s tone as she asked the question, showed
how deeply she felt its importance.
‘Yes, Martha; to live.’
‘You’ll never like it, ma’am.’
‘I don’t suppose I shall.’
‘You’ll never get on with it, ma’am; never. The young lady’ll be
out of the house in a week; or if she ain’t, somebody else will.’
‘You mean yourself.’
‘I’m only a servant, ma’am, and it don’t signify about me.’
‘You’re a fool.’
‘That’s true, ma’am, I don’t doubt.’
‘I’ve sent for her, and we must do the best we can. Perhaps she
won’t come.’
‘She’ll come fast enough,’ said Martha. ‘But whether she’ll stay,
that’s a different thing. I don’t see how it’s possible she’s to
stay. I’m told they’re feckless, idle young ladies. She’ll be so
soft, ma’am, and you.’
‘Well; what of me?’
‘You’ll be so hard, ma’am!’
‘I’m not a bit harder than you, Martha; nor yet so hard. I’ll do
my duty, or at least I’ll try. Now you know all about it, and you
may go away. There’s the letter, and I mean to go out and post it
myself.’
‘I KNOW IT WILL DO’
Miss Stanbury carried her letter all the way to the chief post-office
in the city, having no faith whatever in those little subsidiary
receiving houses which are established in different parts of the
city. As for the iron pillar boxes which had been erected of late
years for the receipt of letters, one of which—a most hateful
thing to her—stood almost close to her own hall door, she had not
the faintest belief that any letter put into one of them would ever
reach its destination. She could not understand why people should
not walk with their letters to a respectable post-office instead
of chucking them into an iron stump as she called it out in the
middle of the street with nobody to look after it. Positive orders
had been given that no letter from her house should ever be put
into the iron post. Her epistle to her sister-in-law, of whom she
never spoke otherwise than as Mrs Stanbury, was as follows:
The Close, Exeter, 22nd April, 186
My dear Sister Stanbury,
Your son, Hugh, has taken to courses of which I do not approve, and
therefore I have put an end to my connection with him. I shall be
happy to entertain your daughter Dorothy in my house if you and
she approve of such a plan. Should you agree to this, she will be
welcome to receive you or her sister, not her brother, in my house
any Wednesday morning between half-past nine and half-past twelve.
I will endeavour to make my house pleasant to her and useful, and
will make her an allowance of 25 pounds per annum for her clothes
as long as she may remain with me. I shall expect her to be regular
at meals, to be constant in going to church, and not to read modern
novels.
I intend the arrangement to be permanent, but of course I must
retain the power of closing it if, and when, I shall see fit.
Its permanence must be contingent on my life. I have no power of
providing for any one after my death,
Yours truly,
JEMIMA STANBURY.
I hope the young lady does not have any false hair about her.’
When this note was received at Nuncombe Putney the amazement which
it occasioned was extreme. Mrs Stanbury, the widow of the late
vicar, lived in a little morsel of a cottage on the outskirts of
the village, with her two daughters, Priscilla and Dorothy. Their
whole income, out of which it was necessary that they should pay
rent for their cottage, was less than 70 pounds per annum. During
the last few months a five-pound note now and again had found its
way to Nuncombe Putney out of the coffers of the ‘D. R.’; but the
ladies there were most unwilling to be so relieved, thinking that
their brother’s career was of infinitely more importance than their
comforts or even than their living. They were very poor, but they
were accustomed to poverty. The elder sister was older than Hugh,
but Dorothy, the younger, to whom this strange invitation was now
made, was two years younger than her brother, and was now nearly
twenty-six. How they had lived, and dressed themselves, and had
continued to be called ladies by the inhabitants of the village was,
and is, and will be a mystery to those who have had the spending
of much larger incomes, but have still been always poor. But they
had lived, had gone to church every Sunday in decent apparel, and
had kept up friendly relations with the family of the present vicar,
and with one or two other neighbours.
When the letter had been read first by the mother, and then aloud,
and then by each of them separately, in the little sitting-room
in the cottage, there was silence among them for neither of them
desired to be the first to express an opinion. Nothing could be
more natural than the proposed arrangement, had it not been made
unnatural by a quarrel existing nearly throughout the whole life
of the person most nearly concerned. Priscilla, the elder daughter,
was the one of the family who was generally the ruler, and she at
last expressed an opinion adverse to the arrangement. ‘My dear,
you would never be able to bear it,’ said Priscilla.
‘I suppose not,’ said Mrs Stanbury, plaintively.
‘I could try,’ said Dorothy.
‘My dear, you don’t know that woman,’ said Priscilla.
‘Of course I don’t know her,’ said Dorothy.
‘She has always been very good to Hugh,’ said Mrs Stanbury.
‘I don’t think she has been good to him at all,’ said Priscilla.
‘But think what a saving it would be,’ said Dorothy. ‘And I could
send home half of what Aunt Stanbury says she would give me.’
‘You must not think of that,’ said Priscilla, ‘because she expects
you to be dressed.’
‘I should like to try,’ she said, before the morning was over ‘if
you and mamma don’t think it would be wrong.’
The conference that day ended in a written request to Aunt Stanbury
that a week might be allowed for consideration, the letter being
written by Priscilla, but signed with her mother’s name, and with
a very long epistle to Hugh, in which each of the ladies took a
part, and in which advice and decision were demanded. It was very
evident to Hugh that his mother and Dorothy were for compliance, and
that Priscilla was for refusal. But he never doubted for a moment.
‘Of course she will go,’ he said in his answer to Priscilla; ‘and
she must understand that Aunt Stanbury is a most excellent woman,
as true as the sun, thoroughly honest, with no fault but this, that
she likes her own way. Of course Dolly can go back again if she
finds the house too hard for her.’ Then he sent another five-pound
note, observing that Dolly’s journey to Exeter would cost money,
and that her wardrobe would want some improvement.
‘I’m very glad that it isn’t me,’ said Priscilla, who, however,
did not attempt to oppose the decision of the man of the family.
Dorothy was greatly gratified by the excitement of the proposed
change in her life, and the following letter, the product of the
wisdom of the family, was written by Mrs Stanbury.
‘Nuncombe Putney, 1st May, 186
My dear Sister Stanbury,
We are all very thankful for the kindness of your offer, which my
daughter Dorothy will accept with feelings of affectionate gratitude.
I think you will find her docile, good-tempered, and amiable; but
a mother, of course, speaks well of her own child. She will endeavour
to comply with your wishes in all things reasonable. She; of course,
understands that should the arrangement not suit, she will come
back home on the expression of your wish that it should be so. And
she will, of course, do the same, if she should find that living in
Exeter does not suit herself.’ (This sentence was inserted at the
instance of Priscilla, after much urgent expostulation.) ‘Dorothy
will be ready to go to you on any day you may fix after the 7th of
this month.
Believe me to remain,
Your affectionate sister-in-law,
P. STANBURY.’
‘She’s going to come,’ said Miss Stanbury to Martha, holding the
letter in her hand.
‘I never doubted her coming, ma’am,’ said Martha.
‘And I mean her to stay, unless it’s her own fault. She’ll have
the small room upstairs, looking out front, next to mine. And you
must go and fetch her.’
‘Go and fetch her, ma’am?’
‘Yes. If you won’t, I must.’
‘She ain’t a child, ma’am. She’s twenty-five years old, and surely
she can come to Exeter by herself, with a railroad all the way from
Lessboro’.’
‘There’s no place a young woman is insulted in so bad as those
railway carriages, and I won’t have her come by herself. If she is
to live with me, she shall begin decently at any rate.’
Martha argued the matter, but was of course beaten, and on the day
fixed started early in the morning for Nuncombe Putney, and returned
in the afternoon to the Close with her charge. By the time that she
had reached the house she had in some degree reconciled herself to
the dangerous step that her mistress had taken, partly by perceiving
that in face Dorothy Stanbury was very like her brother Hugh, and
partly, perhaps, by finding that the young woman’s manner to herself
was both gentle and sprightly. She knew well that gentleness alone,
without some back-bone of strength under it, would not long succeed
with Miss Stanbury. ‘As far as I can judge, ma’am, she’s a sweet
young lady,’ said Martha, when she reported her arrival to her
mistress, who had retired upstairs to her own room, in order that
she might thus hear a word of tidings from her lieutenant, before
she showed herself on the field of action.
‘Sweet! I hate your sweets,’ said Miss Stanbury. ‘Then why did
you send for her, ma’am?’
‘Because I was an old fool. But I must go down and receive her, I
suppose.’
Then Miss Stanbury went down, almost trembling as she went The
matter to
Comments (0)