Doctor Thorne by Anthony Trollope (interesting books to read TXT) 📖

duty,” said Lady Arabella, repeating her words with even a

stronger de Courcy intonation; “and your duty also, Dr Thorne.”

 

“My duty!” said he, rising from his chair and leaning on the table

with the two thigh-bones. “Lady Arabella, pray understand at once,

that I repudiate any such duty, and will have nothing whatever to do

with it.”

 

“But you do not mean to say that you will encourage this unfortunate

boy to marry your niece?”

 

“The unfortunate boy, Lady Arabella—whom, by the by, I regard as

a very fortunate young man—is your son, not mine. I shall take no

steps about his marriage, either one way or the other.”

 

“You think it right, then, that your niece should throw herself in

his way?”

 

“Throw herself in his way! What would you say if I came up to

Greshamsbury, and spoke to you of your daughters in such language?

What would my dear friend Mr Gresham say, if some neighbour’s wife

should come and so speak to him? I will tell you what he would say:

he would quietly beg her to go back to her own home and meddle only

with her own matters.”

 

This was dreadful to Lady Arabella. Even Dr Thorne had never before

dared thus to lower her to the level of common humanity, and liken

her to any other wife in the country-side. Moreover, she was not

quite sure whether he, the parish doctor, was not desiring her, the

earl’s daughter, to go home and mind her own business. On this first

point, however, there seemed to be no room for doubt, of which she

gave herself the benefit.

 

“It would not become me to argue with you, Dr Thorne,” she said.

 

“Not at least on this subject,” said he.

 

“I can only repeat that I mean nothing offensive to our dear Mary;

for whom, I think I may say, I have always shown almost a mother’s

care.”

 

“Neither am I, nor is Mary, ungrateful for the kindness she has

received at Greshamsbury.”

 

“But I must do my duty: my own children must be my first

consideration.”

 

“Of course they must, Lady Arabella; that’s of course.”

 

“And, therefore, I have called on you to say that I think it is

imprudent that Beatrice and Mary should be so much together.”

 

The doctor had been standing during the latter part of this

conversation, but now he began to walk about, still holding the two

bones like a pair of dumb-bells.

 

“God bless my soul!” he said; “God bless my soul! Why, Lady Arabella,

do you suspect your own daughter as well as your own son? Do you

think that Beatrice is assisting Mary in preparing this wicked

clandestine marriage? I tell you fairly, Lady Arabella, the present

tone of your mind is such that I cannot understand it.”

 

“I suspect nobody, Dr Thorne; but young people will be young.”

 

“And old people must be old, I suppose; the more’s the pity. Lady

Arabella, Mary is the same to me as my own daughter, and owes me the

obedience of a child; but as I do not disapprove of your daughter

Beatrice as an acquaintance for her, but rather, on the other hand,

regard with pleasure their friendship, you cannot expect that I

should take any steps to put an end to it.”

 

“But suppose it should lead to renewed intercourse between Frank and

Mary?”

 

“I have no objection. Frank is a very nice young fellow,

gentleman-like in his manners, and neighbourly in his disposition.”

 

“Dr Thorne—”

 

“Lady Arabella—”

 

“I cannot believe that you really intend to express a wish—”

 

“You are quite right. I have not intended to express any wish; nor do

I intend to do so. Mary is at liberty, within certain bounds—which

I am sure she will not pass—to choose her own friends. I think she

has not chosen badly as regards Miss Beatrice Gresham; and should she

even add Frank Gresham to the number—”

 

“Friends! why they were more than friends; they were declared

lovers.”

 

“I doubt that, Lady Arabella, because I have not heard of it from

Mary. But even if it were so, I do not see why I should object.”

 

“Not object!”

 

“As I said before, Frank is, to my thinking, an excellent young man.

Why should I object?”

 

“Dr Thorne!” said her ladyship, now also rising from her chair in a

state of too evident perturbation.

 

“Why should I object? It is for you, Lady Arabella, to look after

your lambs; for me to see that, if possible, no harm shall come to

mine. If you think that Mary is an improper acquaintance for your

children, it is for you to guide them; for you and their father. Say

what you think fit to your own daughter; but pray understand, once

for all, that I will allow no one to interfere with my niece.”

 

“Interfere!” said Lady Arabella, now absolutely confused by the

severity of the doctor’s manner.

 

“I will allow no one to interfere with her; no one, Lady Arabella.

She has suffered very greatly from imputations which you have most

unjustly thrown on her. It was, however, your undoubted right to turn

her out of your house if you thought fit;—though, as a woman who

had known her for so many years, you might, I think, have treated

her with more forbearance. That, however, was your right, and you

exercised it. There your privilege stops; yes, and must stop, Lady

Arabella. You shall not persecute her here, on the only spot of

ground she can call her own.”

 

“Persecute her, Dr Thorne! You do not mean to say that I have

persecuted her?”

 

“Ah! but I do mean to say so. You do persecute her, and would

continue to do so did I not defend her. It is not sufficient that

she is forbidden to enter your domain—and so forbidden with the

knowledge of all the country round—but you must come here also with

the hope of interrupting all the innocent pleasures of her life.

Fearing lest she should be allowed even to speak to your son, to hear

a word of him through his own sister, you would put her in prison,

tie her up, keep her from the light of day—”

 

“Dr Thorne! how can you—”

 

But the doctor was not to be interrupted.

 

“It never occurs to you to tie him up, to put him in prison. No; he

is the heir of Greshamsbury; he is your son, an earl’s grandson. It

is only natural, after all, that he should throw a few foolish words

at the doctor’s niece. But she! it is an offence not to be forgiven

on her part that she should, however, unwillingly, have been forced

to listen to them! Now understand me, Lady Arabella; if any of your

family come to my house I shall be delighted to welcome them: if Mary

should meet any of them elsewhere I shall be delighted to hear of it.

Should she tell me to-morrow that she was engaged to marry Frank, I

should talk the matter over with her, quite coolly, solely with a

view to her interest, as would be my duty; feeling, at the same time,

that Frank would be lucky in having such a wife. Now you know my

mind, Lady Arabella. It is so I should do my duty;—you can do yours

as you may think fit.”

 

Lady Arabella had by this time perceived that she was not destined on

this occasion to gain any great victory. She, however, was angry as

well as the doctor. It was not the man’s vehemence that provoked her

so much as his evident determination to break down the prestige of

her rank, and place her on a footing in no respect superior to his

own. He had never before been so audaciously arrogant; and, as she

moved towards the door, she determined in her wrath that she would

never again have confidential intercourse with him in any relation of

life whatsoever.

 

“Dr Thorne,” said she. “I think you have forgotten yourself. You must

excuse me if I say that after what has passed I—I—I—”

 

“Certainly,” said he, fully understanding what she meant; and bowing

low as he opened first the study-door, then the front-door, then the

garden-gate.

 

And then Lady Arabella stalked off, not without full observation from

Mrs Yates Umbleby and her friend Miss Gushing, who lived close by.