第81章
- A Woman-Hater
- Charles Reade
- 4585字
- 2016-03-04 09:50:31
"The matter is--extravagances. Here is a man of the world pretending he would like to end his days in Marks's cottage.""Stop a bit. It was to be with somebody I loved. And wouldn't you, Miss Dover?""Oh dear, no. We should be sure to quarrel, cooped up in such a mite of a place. No; give me Vizard Court, and plenty of money, and the man of my heart.""You have not got one, I'm afraid," said Zoe, "or you would not put him last.""Why not? when he is of the last importance," said Fanny, flippantly, and turned the laugh her way.
They strolled through the village together, but in the grounds of Vizard Court Fanny fairly gave them the slip. Severne saw his chance, and said, tenderly, "Did you hear what she said about a large house being best for lovers?""Yes, I heard her," said Zoe, defensively; "but very likely she did not mean it. That young lady's words are air. She will say one thing one day and another the next.""I don't know. There is one thing every young lady's mind is made up about, and that is, whether it is to be love or money.""She was for both, if I remember," said Zoe, still coldly.
"Because she is not in love."
"Well, I really believe she is not--for once.""There, you see. She is in an unnatural condition.""For her, very."
"So she is no judge. No; I should prefer Marks's cottage. The smaller the better; because then the woman I love could not ever be far from me."He lowered his voice, and drove the insidious words into her tender bosom. She began to tremble and heave, and defend herself feebly.
"What have I to do with that? You mustn't.""How can I help it? You know the woman I love--I adore--and would not the smallest cottage in England be a palace if I was blessed with her sweet love and her divine company? Oh, Zoe, Zoe!"Then she did defend herself, after a fashion: "I won't listen to such--Edward!" Having uttered his name with divine tenderness, she put her hands to her blushing face, and fled from him. At the head of the stairs she encountered Fanny, looking satirical. She reprimanded her.
"Fanny," said she, "you really must not do _that"_--[pause]--"out of our own grounds. Kiss me, darling. I am a happy girl." And she curled round Fanny, and panted on her shoulder.
Miss Artful, known unto men as Fanny Dover, had already traced out in her own mind a line of conduct, which the above reprimand, minus the above kisses, taken at their joint algebraical value, did not disturb. The fact is, Fanny hated home; and liked Vizard Court above all places. But she was due at home, and hanging on to the palace of comfort by a thread. Any day her mother, out of natural affection and good-breeding, might write for her; and unless one of her hosts interfered, she should have to go.
But Harrington went for nothing in this, unfortunately. His hospitality was unobtrusive, but infinite. It came to him from the Plantagenets through a long line of gentlemen who shone in vices; but inhospitality was unknown to the whole chain, and every human link in it. He might very likely forget to invite Fanny Dover unless reminded; but, when she was there, she was welcome to stay forever if she chose. It was all one to him. He never bothered himself to amuse his guests, and so they never bored him. He never let them. He made them at home; put his people and his horses at their service; and preserved his even tenor. So, then, the question of Fanny's stay lay with Zoe; and Zoe would do one of two things: she would either say, with well-bred hypocrisy, she ought not to keep Fanny any longer from her mother--and so get rid of her; or would interpose, and give some reason or other. What that reason would be, Fanny had no precise idea. She was sure it would not be the true one; but there her insight into futurity and females ceased. Now, Zoe was thoroughly fascinated by Severne, and Fanny saw it; and yet Zoe was too high-bred a girl to parade the village and the neighborhood with him alone--and so placard her attachment--before they were engaged, and the engagement sanctioned by the head of the house. This consideration enabled Miss Artful to make herself necessary to Zoe. Accordingly, she showed, on the very first afternoon, that she was prepared to play the convenient friend, and help Zoe to combine courtship with propriety.
This plan once conceived, she adhered to it with pertinacity and skill.
She rode and walked with them, and in public put herself rather forward, and asserted the leader; but sooner or later, at a proper time and place, she lagged behind, or cantered ahead, and manipulated the wooing with tact and dexterity.
The consequence was that Zoe wrote of her own accord to Mrs. Dover, asking leave to detain Fanny, because her brother had invited a college friend, and it was rather awkward for her without Fanny, there being no other lady in the house at present.
She showed this to Fanny, who said, earnestly, "As long as ever you like, dear. Mamma will not miss me a bit. Make your mind easy."Vizard, knowing his sister, and entirely deceived in Severne, exercised no vigilance; for, to do Zoe justice, none was necessary, if Severne had been the man he seemed.
There was no mother in the house to tremble for her daughter, to be jealous, to watch, to question, to demand a clear explanation--in short, to guard her young as only the mothers of creation do.
The Elysian days rolled on. Zoe was in heaven, and Severne in a fool's paradise, enjoying everything, hoping everything, forgetting everything, and fearing nothing. He had come to this, with all his cunning; he was intoxicated and blinded with passion.