Framley Parsonage Anthony Trollope (best english novels for beginners .TXT) 📖

should be given up to such subjects as these. But, nevertheless, she could bear it,” she said, “as long as he would carry himself like a man, and face his lot boldly before the world.” And then she told how he had been better there at Hogglestock than in their former residence down in Cornwall, and in warm language she expressed her thanks to the friend who had done so much for them.

“Mrs. Arabin told me that she was so anxious you should go to them,” said Mrs. Robarts.

“Ah, yes; but that I fear is impossible. The children, you know, Mrs. Robarts.”

“I would take care of two of them for you.”

“Oh, no; I could not punish you for your goodness in that way. But he would not go. He could go and leave me at home. Sometimes I have thought that it might be so, and I have done all in my power to persuade him. I have told him that if he could mix once more with the world, with the clerical world, you know, that he would be better fitted for the performance of his own duties. But he answers me angrily, that it is impossible⁠—that his coat is not fit for the dean’s table,” and Mrs. Crawley almost blushed as she spoke of such a reason.

“What! with an old friend like Dr. Arabin? Surely that must be nonsense.”

“I know that it is. The dean would be glad to see him with any coat. But the fact is that he cannot bear to enter the house of a rich man unless his duty calls him there.”

“But surely that is a mistake?”

“It is a mistake. But what can I do? I fear that he regards the rich as his enemies. He is pining for the solace of some friend to whom he could talk⁠—for some equal, with a mind educated like his own, to whose thoughts he could listen, and to whom he could speak his own thoughts. But such a friend must be equal, not only in mind, but in purse; and where can he ever find such a man as that?”

“But you may get better preferment.”

“Ah, no; and if he did, we are hardly fit for it now. If I could think that I could educate my children; if I could only do something for my poor Grace⁠—”

In answer to this Mrs. Robarts said a word or two, but not much. She resolved, however, that if she could get her husband’s leave, something should be done for Grace. Would it not be a good work? and was it not incumbent on her to make some kindly use of all the goods with which Providence had blessed herself?

And then they went back to the sitting-room, each again with a young child in her arms, Mrs. Crawley having stowed away in the kitchen the chicken broth and the leg of pork and the supply of eggs. Lucy had been engaged the while with the children, and when the two married ladies entered, they found that a shop had been opened at which all manner of luxuries were being readily sold and purchased at marvellously easy prices; the guava jelly was there, and the oranges, and the sugarplums, red and yellow and striped; and, moreover, the gingerbread had been taken down in the audacity of their commercial speculations, and the nuts were spread out upon a board, behind which Lucy stood as shop-girl, disposing of them for kisses.

“Mamma, mamma,” said Bobby, running up to his mother, “you must buy something of her,” and he pointed with his fingers at the shop-girl. “You must give her two kisses for that heap of barley-sugar.” Looking at Bobby’s mouth at the time, one would have said that his kisses might be dispensed with.

When they were again in the pony-carriage, behind the impatient Puck, and were well away from the door, Fanny was the first to speak.

“How very different those two are,” she said; “different in their minds and in their spirit!”

“But how much higher toned is her mind than his! How weak he is in many things, and how strong she is in everything! How false is his pride, and how false his shame!”

“But we must remember what he has to bear. It is not everyone that can endure such a life as his without false pride and false shame.”

“But she has neither,” said Lucy.

“Because you have one hero in a family, does that give you a right to expect another?” said Mrs. Robarts. “Of all my own acquaintance, Mrs. Crawley, I think, comes nearest to heroism.”

And then they passed by the Hogglestock school, and Mr. Crawley, when he heard the noise of the wheels, came out.

“You have been very kind,” said he, “to remain so long with my poor wife.”

“We had a great many things to talk about, after you went.”

“It is very kind of you, for she does not often see a friend, nowadays. Will you have the goodness to tell Mr. Robarts that I shall be here at the school, at eleven o’clock tomorrow?”

And then he bowed, taking off his hat to them, and they drove on.

“If he really does care about her comfort, I shall not think so badly of him,” said Lucy.

XXIII The Triumph of the Giants

And now about the end of April news arrived almost simultaneously in all quarters of the habitable globe that was terrible in its import to one of the chief persons of our history;⁠—some may think to the chief person in it. All high parliamentary people will doubtless so think, and the wives and daughters of such. The Titans warring against the gods had been for awhile successful. Typhoeus and Mimas, Porphyrion and Rhoecus, the giant brood of old, steeped in ignorance and wedded to corruption, had scaled the heights of Olympus, assisted by that audacious flinger of deadly ponderous missiles, who stands ever ready armed with his terrific sling⁠—Supplehouse, the Enceladus of the press. And in this universal cataclasm of the starry councils, what could a poor