The Tenant of Wildfell Hall Anne BrontĂ« (librera reader .txt) đ
- Author: Anne Brontë
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âI do, dearest; and you must tell me why, that I may best know how to combat her objections. I suppose she thinks I am a prodigal,â pursued he, observing that I was unwilling to reply, âand concludes that I shall have but little worldly goods wherewith to endow my better half? If so, you must tell her that my property is mostly entailed, and I cannot get rid of it. There may be a few mortgages on the restâ âa few trifling debts and incumbrances here and there, but nothing to speak of; and though I acknowledge I am not so rich as I might beâ âor have beenâ âstill, I think, we could manage pretty comfortably on whatâs left. My father, you know, was something of a miser, and in his latter days especially saw no pleasure in life but to amass riches; and so it is no wonder that his son should make it his chief delight to spend them, which was accordingly the case, until my acquaintance with you, dear Helen, taught me other views and nobler aims. And the very idea of having you to care for under my roof would force me to moderate my expenses and live like a Christianâ ânot to speak of all the prudence and virtue you would instil into my mind by your wise counsels and sweet, attractive goodness.â
âBut it is not that,â said I; âit is not money my aunt thinks about. She knows better than to value worldly wealth above its price.â
âWhat is it, then?â
âShe wishes me toâ âto marry none but a really good man.â
âWhat, a man of âdecided pietyâ?â âahem!â âWell, come, Iâll manage that too! Itâs Sunday today, isnât it? Iâll go to church morning, afternoon, and evening, and comport myself in such a godly sort that she shall regard me with admiration and sisterly love, as a brand plucked from the burning. Iâll come home sighing like a furnace, and full of the savour and unction of dear Mr. Blatantâs discourseâ ââ
âMr. Leighton,â said I, dryly.
âIs Mr. Leighton a âsweet preacher,â Helenâ âa âdear, delightful, heavenly-minded manâ?â
âHe is a good man, Mr. Huntingdon. I wish I could say half as much for you.â
âOh, I forgot, you are a saint, too. I crave your pardon, dearestâ âbut donât call me Mr. Huntingdon; my name is Arthur.â
âIâll call you nothingâ âfor Iâll have nothing at all to do with you if you talk in that way any more. If you really mean to deceive my aunt as you say, you are very wicked; and if not, you are very wrong to jest on such a subject.â
âI stand corrected,â said he, concluding his laugh with a sorrowful sigh. âNow,â resumed he, after a momentary pause, âlet us talk about something else. And come nearer to me, Helen, and take my arm; and then Iâll let you alone. I canât be quiet while I see you walking there.â
I complied; but said we must soon return to the house.
âNo one will be down to breakfast yet, for long enough,â he answered. âYou spoke of your guardians just now, Helen, but is not your father still living?â
âYes, but I always look upon my uncle and aunt as my guardians, for they are so in deed, though not in name. My father has entirely given me up to their care. I have never seen him since dear mamma died, when I was a very little girl, and my aunt, at her request, offered to take charge of me, and took me away to Staningley, where I have remained ever since; and I donât think he would object to anything for me that she thought proper to sanction.â
âBut would he sanction anything to which she thought proper to object?â
âNo, I donât think he cares enough about me.â
âHe is very much to blameâ âbut he doesnât know what an angel he has for his daughterâ âwhich is all the better for me, as, if he did, he would not be willing to part with such a treasure.â
âAnd Mr. Huntingdon,â said I, âI suppose you know I am not an heiress?â
He protested he had never given it a thought, and begged I would not disturb his present enjoyment by the mention of such uninteresting subjects. I was glad of this proof of disinterested affection; for Annabella Wilmot is the probable heiress to all her uncleâs wealth, in addition to her late fatherâs property, which she has already in possession.
I now insisted upon retracing our steps to the house; but we walked slowly, and went on talking as we proceeded. I need not repeat all we said: let me rather refer to what passed between my aunt and me, after breakfast, when Mr. Huntingdon called my uncle aside, no doubt to make his proposals, and she beckoned me into another room, where she once more commenced a solemn remonstrance, which, however, entirely failed to convince me that her view of the case was preferable to my own.
âYou judge him uncharitably, aunt, I know,â said I. âHis very friends are not half so bad as you represent them. There is Walter Hargrave, Milicentâs brother, for one: he is but a little lower than the angels, if half she says of him is true. She is continually talking to me about him, and lauding his many virtues to the skies.â
âYou will form a very inadequate estimate of a manâs character,â replied she, âif you judge by what a fond sister says of him. The worst of them generally know how to hide their misdeeds from their sistersâ eyes, and their motherâs, too.â
âAnd there is Lord Lowborough,â continued I, âquite a decent man.â
âWho told you so? Lord Lowborough is a desperate man. He has dissipated his fortune in gambling and other things, and is now seeking an heiress to retrieve it. I told Miss Wilmot so; but youâre all alike: she haughtily answered she was very much obliged to me, but she believed she knew when a
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