Deerbrook. Harriet Martineau

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СКАЧАТЬ of twilight faded away in his apartment, and the night air blew in chill from the open window. He was so exhausted by his mental conflict as to be scarcely able to rise to close the window, and retire to rest. There was one hope, familiar as the sunshine to his eyes, but unusually feeble, still abiding in his mind for comfort—that he should, sooner or later, clearly discern what it was his duty to do. All was at present dark; but this light might flow in. He would wait: he would not act till it did.

      He did wait. For many days he was not seen in any of the haunts to which he had begun to return. The answer to inquiries was that Mr. Hope was not so well, and wished for entire quiet. Everyone was anxious. Hester was wretched, and Mrs. Grey extremely restless and uneasy. She made several attempts to see him; but in no instance did she succeed. She wrote him a private note, and received only a friendly verbal answer, such as all the world might hear.

      Mr. Hope did wait for his duty to grow clear in the accumulating light of thought. He decided at length how to act; and he decided wrong;—not for want of waiting long enough, but because some considerations intruded themselves which warped his judgment, and sophisticated his feelings. He decided upon making the great mistake of his life.

      Nothing had ever been clearer to his mind than the guilt of marrying without love. No man could have spoken more strongly, more solemnly than he, on the presumption, the dishonourableness, the profligacy, of such an act: but he was unaware how a man may be betrayed into it while he has neither presumption, nor treachery, nor profligacy in his thoughts. Hope went through a world of meditation during the days of his close retirement; some of his thoughts were superficial, and some deceived him. He considered Margaret lost to him: he glanced forwards to his desolation when he should lose the society of both sisters—an event likely to happen almost immediately, unless he should so act as to retain them. He dwelt upon Hester’s beauty, her superiority of mind to every woman but one whom he had known, her attachment to himself; her dependence upon him. He pondered these things till the tone of his mind was lowered, and too many superficial feelings mingled with the sacredness of the transaction, and impaired its integrity. Under their influence he decided what to do.

      He had no intention, all this while, of taking Mrs. Grey’s word for the whole matter, without test or confirmation. From the beginning, he was aware that his first step must be to ascertain that she was not mistaken. And this was his first step.

      There were two obvious methods of proceeding. One was to consult Mr. Grey, who stood in the place of guardian to these girls, as to the probability of his success with Hester, in case of his proposing himself to her. The other was to ask the same question of Margaret. The advantage of speaking to Mr. Grey was, that he might not be bound to proceed, in case of Mr. Grey differing from his lady’s view of the case; but then, Mr. Grey was perhaps unaware of the real state of Hester’s mind. From Margaret there was certainty of hearing nothing but the truth, however little of it her feelings for her sister might allow her to reveal; but such a conversation with her would compel him to proceed: all retreat would be cut off after it; and he naturally shrank from conversing with Margaret, of all people, on this subject. But Hope was equal to any effort which he thought a matter of duty; and he resolved not to flinch from this. He would speak first to Mr. Grey; and if Mr. Grey did not undertake to answer for Hester’s indifference, he would seek an interview with Margaret. If Margaret should encourage his advances on her sister’s behalf; the matter was decided. He should have a wife who might be the pride of any man—whom it would be an honour to any man to have attached. If, as was still just possible, Margaret should believe that her sister felt no peculiar regard for him, he thought he might intimate so much of the truth as, without offending her feelings on her sister’s account, would secure for him freedom to reconsider his purposes. No man disliked more than he so circuitous a method of acting in the most important affair of life. He had always believed that, in the case of a genuine and virtuous attachment, there can or ought to be nothing but the most entire simplicity of conduct in the parties—no appeal to any but each other—no seeking of an intervention, where no stranger ought to intermeddle with the joy: but the present affair, though perpetually brightening before Hope’s fancy, could not for a moment be thought of as of this kind: and here the circuitous method, which had always appeared disgusting to his imagination, was a matter of necessity to his conscience.

      Chapter Eleven.

      A Turn in the Shrubbery.

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      Mr. Grey looked extremely pleased when asked whether he supposed Hester might be won. His reply was simple enough. He was not in his young cousin’s confidence: he could not undertake to answer for the state of mind of young ladies; but he knew of no other attachment—of nothing which need discourage his friend Hope, who would have his hearty good wishes if he should persevere in his project. Yes, yes; he fully understood: it was not to be spoken of;—it was to rest entirely between themselves till Hope should have felt his way a little. He knew it was the fashion in these days to feel the way a little more than was thought necessary or desirable in his time: but he liked that all should follow their own method in an affair which concerned themselves so much more than any one else: so the matter should be a perfect secret, as Mr. Hope desired; though he did not fancy it would have to be kept so close for any great length of time.

      This was over. Now for the interview with Margaret, which had become necessary.

      His reappearance in the family party at Mr. Grey’s, under the inquisitive eyes of Mrs. Grey herself, must be an awkward business at the best, while he remained in uncertainty. The only way was to put an end to the uncertainty as soon as possible. He would go this very afternoon, and ascertain his fate before the day was over. He went boldly up to the door and rang. “The family were all out in the garden after dinner,” Alice said: “would Mr. Hope join them there, or would he rest himself while she told them he had arrived?” Alice’s anxiety about his looks was not yet satisfied.

      “I will step in here,” said he, the door of the blue parlour being open. “Send Morris to me,” Morris at that moment crossing the hall. “Morris, I want to see Miss Margaret. Will you just tell her that some one wishes to speak with her? I know she will excuse my asking the favour of her to come in.”

      “Miss Margaret, sir?”

      “Yes.”

      “I am sure, sir, you look more fit to sit here than to be gathering apples with them all in the orchard. Did you say Miss Margaret, sir?”

      “Yes.”

      “Whatever else may be in Morris’s mind,” thought Hope, “it is clear that she is surprised at my wanting to see Margaret.—Here she comes.”

      He was not sorry that the step paused in the hall—that there was a delay of some seconds before Margaret appeared. He felt as weak at the moment as on first rising from his bed after his accident; but he rallied his resolution before he met her eye—now timid and shrinking as he had never seen it before. Margaret was very grave, and as nearly awkward as it was possible for her to be. She shook hands with him, however, and hoped that he was better again.

      “I am better, thank you. Will you sit down, and let me speak to you for a few minutes?”

      It was impossible to refuse. Margaret sank down, while he shut the door.

      “I hear,” said he, “that you are already thinking of returning to Birmingham. Is this true?”

      “Yes: we shall go home in a few days.”

      “Then, before you leave us, will you allow me to ask your advice—?”

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