The Tenant of Wildfell Hall Anne BrontĂ« (librera reader .txt) đ
- Author: Anne Brontë
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âWho was it, I ask?â said she, with frigid gravity.
âIt was Mr. Huntingdon, the son of uncleâs old friend.â
âI have heard your uncle speak of young Mr. Huntingdon. Iâve heard him say, âHeâs a fine lad, that young Huntingdon, but a bit wildish, I fancy.â So Iâd have you beware.â
âWhat does âa bit wildishâ mean?â I inquired.
âIt means destitute of principle, and prone to every vice that is common to youth.â
âBut Iâve heard uncle say he was a sad wild fellow himself, when he was young.â
She sternly shook her head.
âHe was jesting then, I suppose,â said I, âand here he was speaking at randomâ âat least, I cannot believe there is any harm in those laughing blue eyes.â
âFalse reasoning, Helen!â said she, with a sigh.
âWell, we ought to be charitable, you know, auntâ âbesides, I donât think it is false: I am an excellent physiognomist, and I always judge of peopleâs characters by their looksâ ânot by whether they are handsome or ugly, but by the general cast of the countenance. For instance, I should know by your countenance that you were not of a cheerful, sanguine disposition; and I should know by Mr. Wilmotâs, that he was a worthless old reprobate; and by Mr. Boarhamâs, that he was not an agreeable companion; and by Mr. Huntingdonâs, that he was neither a fool nor a knave, though, possibly, neither a sage nor a saintâ âbut that is no matter to me, as I am not likely to meet him againâ âunless as an occasional partner in the ballroom.â
It was not so, however, for I met him again next morning. He came to call upon my uncle, apologising for not having done so before, by saying he was only lately returned from the Continent, and had not heard, till the previous night, of my uncleâs arrival in town; and after that I often met him; sometimes in public, sometimes at home; for he was very assiduous in paying his respects to his old friend, who did not, however, consider himself greatly obliged by the attention.
âI wonder what the deuce the lad means by coming so often,â he would sayâ ââcan you tell, Helen?â âHey? He wants none oâ my company, nor I hisâ âthatâs certain.â
âI wish youâd tell him so, then,â said my aunt.
âWhy, what for? If I donât want him, somebody does, mayhapâ (winking at me). âBesides, heâs a pretty tidy fortune, Peggy, you knowâ ânot such a catch as Wilmot; but then Helen wonât hear of that match: for, somehow, these old chaps donât go down with the girlsâ âwith all their money, and their experience to boot. Iâll bet anything sheâd rather have this young fellow without a penny, than Wilmot with his house full of gold. Wouldnât you, Nell?â
âYes, uncle; but thatâs not saying much for Mr. Huntingdon; for Iâd rather be an old maid and a pauper than Mrs. Wilmot.â
âAnd Mrs. Huntingdon? What would you rather be than Mrs. Huntingdonâ âeh?â
âIâll tell you when Iâve considered the matter.â
âAh! it needs consideration, then? But come, nowâ âwould you rather be an old maidâ âlet alone the pauper?â
âI canât tell till Iâm asked.â
And I left the room immediately, to escape further examination. But five minutes after, in looking from my window, I beheld Mr. Boarham coming up to the door. I waited nearly half-an-hour in uncomfortable suspense, expecting every minute to be called, and vainly longing to hear him go. Then footsteps were heard on the stairs, and my aunt entered the room with a solemn countenance, and closed the door behind her.
âHere is Mr. Boarham, Helen,â said she. âHe wishes to see you.â
âOh, aunt!â âCanât you tell him Iâm indisposed?â âIâm sure I amâ âto see him.â
âNonsense, my dear! this is no trifling matter. He is come on a very important errandâ âto ask your hand in marriage of your uncle and me.â
âI hope my uncle and you told him it was not in your power to give it. What right had he to ask anyone before me?â
âHelen!â
âWhat did my uncle say?â
âHe said he would not interfere in the matter; if you liked to accept Mr. Boarhamâs obliging offer, youâ ââ
âDid he say obliging offer?â
âNo; he said if you liked to take him you might; and if not, you might please yourself.â
âHe said right; and what did you say?â
âIt is no matter what I said. What will you say?â âthat is the question. He is now waiting to ask you himself; but consider well before you go; and if you intend to refuse him, give me your reasons.â
âI shall refuse him, of course; but you must tell me how, for I want to be civil and yet decidedâ âand when Iâve got rid of him, Iâll give you my reasons afterwards.â
âBut stay, Helen; sit down a little and compose yourself. Mr. Boarham is in no particular hurry, for he has little doubt of your acceptance; and I want to speak with you. Tell me, my dear, what are your objections to him? Do you deny that he is an upright, honourable man?â
âNo.â
âDo you deny that he is sensible, sober, respectable?â
âNo; he may be all this, butâ ââ
âBut, Helen! How many such men do you expect to meet with in the world? Upright, honourable, sensible, sober, respectable! Is this such an everyday character that you should reject the possessor of such noble qualities without a momentâs hesitation? Yes, noble I may call them; for think of the full meaning of each, and how many inestimable virtues they include (and I might add many more to the list), and consider that all this is laid at your feet. It is in your power to secure this inestimable blessing for lifeâ âa worthy and excellent husband, who loves you tenderly, but not too fondly so as to blind him to your faults, and will be your guide throughout lifeâs pilgrimage, and your partner in eternal bliss. Think howâ ââ
âBut I hate him, aunt,â said I, interrupting this unusual flow of eloquence.
âHate him, Helen! Is this a Christian
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