第74章
- A Woman-Hater
- Charles Reade
- 3051字
- 2016-03-04 09:50:31
GOING home in the carriage, Zoe was silent, but Severne talked nineteen to the dozen. Had his object been to hinder his companion's mind from dwelling too long on one thing, he could not have rattled the dice of small talk more industriously. His words would fill pages; his topics were, that Miss Gale was an extraordinary woman, but too masculine for his taste, and had made her own troubles setting up doctress, when her true line was governess--for boys. He was also glib and satirical upon that favorite butt, a friend.
"Who but a _soi-disant_ woman-hater would pick up a strange virago and send his sister to her with twenty pounds? I'll tell you what it is, Miss Vizard--"Here Miss Vizard, who had sat dead silent under a flow of words, which is merely indicated above, laid her hand on his arm to stop the flux for a moment, and said, quietly, _"Do_ you know her? tell me.""Know her! How should I?"
"I thought you might have met her--abroad.""Well, it is possible, of course, but very unlikely. If I did, I never spoke to her, or I should have remembered her. _Don't you think so?"_"She seemed very positive; and I think she is an accurate person. She seemed quite surprised and mortified when you said 'No.'""Well, you know, of course it is a mortifying thing when a lady claims a gentleman's acquaintance, and the gentleman doesn't admit it. But what could I do? I couldn't tell a lie about it--could I?""Of course not."
"I was off my guard, and rudish; but you were not. What tact! what delicacy! what high breeding and angelic benevolence! And so clever, too!""Oh, fie! you listened!"
"You left the door ajar, and I could not bear to lose a word that dropped from those lips so near me. Yes, I listened, and got such a lesson as only a noble, gentle lady could give. I shall never forget your womanly art, and the way you contrived to make the benefaction sound nothing. 'We are all of us at low water in turns, and for a time, especially me, Zoe Vizard; so here's a trifling loan.' A loan! you'll never see a shilling of it again! No matter. What do angels want of money?""Oh, pray," said Zoe, "you make me blush!""Then I wish there was more light to see it--yes, an angel. Do you think I can't see you have done all this for a lady you do not really approve?
Fancy--a she doctor!"
"My dear friend," said Zoe, with a little juvenile pomposity, "one ought not to judge one's intellectual superiors hastily, and this lady is ours"--then, gliding back to herself, "and it is my nature to approve what those I love approve--when it is not downright wrong, you know.""Oh, of course it is not wrong; but is it wise?"Zoe did not answer: the question puzzled her.
"Come," said he, "I'll be frank, and speak out in time. I don't think you know your brother Harrington. He is very inflammable.""Inflammable! What! Harrington? Well, yes; for I've seen smoke issue from his mouth--ha! ha!""Ha! ha! I'll pass that off for mine, some day when you are not by. But, seriously, your brother is the very man to make a fool of himself with a certain kind of woman. He despises the whole sex--in theory, and he is very hard upon ordinary women, and does not appreciate their good qualities. But, when he meets a remarkable woman, he catches fire like tow. He fell in love with Mademoiselle Klosking.""Oh, not in love!"
"I beg your pardon. Now, this is between you and me--he was in love with her, madly in love. He was only saved by our coming away. If those two had met and made acquaintance, he would have been at her mercy. I don't say any harm would have come of it; but I do say that would have depended on the woman, and not on the man."Zoe looked very serious, and said nothing. But her long silence showed him his words had told.