Evan Harrington - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel Evan Harrington Part 88 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
'Dear Harriet!' she said, with less languor, 'You are utterly and totally and entirely mistaken. I tell you so positively. Renegade! The application of such a word to such a man! Oh! and it is false, Harriet quite! Renegade means one who has gone over to the Turks, my dear. I am almost certain I saw it in Johnson's Dictionary, or an improvement upon Johnson, by a more learned author. But there is the fact, if Harriet can only bring her--shall I say stiff-necked prejudices to envisage it?'
Harriet granted her sister permission to apply the phrases she stood in need of, without impeaching her intimacy with the most learned among lexicographers.
'And is there no such thing as being too severe?' the Countess resumed.
'What our enemies call unchristian!'
'Mr. Duffian has no cause to complain of us,' said Harriet.
'Nor does he do so, dearest. Calumny may a.s.sail him; you may utterly denude him--'
'Adam!' interposed Andrew, distractedly listening. He did not disturb the Countess's flow.
'You may vilify and victimize Mr. Duffian, and strip him of the honours of his birth, but, like the Martyrs, he will still continue the perfect n.o.bleman. Stoned, I a.s.sure you that Mr. Duffian would preserve his breeding. In character he is exquisite; a polish to defy misfortune.'
'I suppose his table is good?' said Harriet, almost ruffled by the Countess's lecture.
'Plate,' was remarked in the cold tone of supreme indifference.
'Hem! good wines?' Andrew asked, waking up a little and not wis.h.i.+ng to be excluded altogether.
'All is of the very best,' the Countess pursued her eulogy, not looking at him.
'Don't you think you could--eh, Harry?--manage a pint for me, my dear?'
Andrew humbly pet.i.tioned. 'This cold water--ha! ha! my stomach don't like cold bathing.'
His wretched joke rebounded from the impenetrable armour of the ladies.
'The wine-cellar is locked,' said his wife. 'I have sealed up the key till an inventory can be taken by some agent of the creditors.'
'What creditors?' roared Andrew.
'You can have some of the servants' beer,' Mrs. Cogglesby appended.
Andrew studied her face to see whether she really was not hoisting him with his own petard. Perceiving that she was sincerely acting according to her sense of principle, he fumed, and departed to his privacy, unable to stand it any longer.
Then like a kite the Countess pounced upon his character. Would the Honourable and Reverend Mr. Duflian decline to partic.i.p.ate in the sparest provender? Would he be guilty of the discourtesy of leaving table without a bow or an apology, even if reduced to extremest poverty?
No, indeed! which showed that, under all circ.u.mstances, a gentleman was a gentleman. And, oh! how she pitied her poor Harriet--eternally tied to a most vulgar little man, without the gilding of wealth.
'And a fool in his business to boot, dear!'
'These comparisons do no good,' said Harriet. 'Andrew at least is not a renegade, and never shall be while I live. I will do my duty by him, however poor we are. And now, Louisa, putting my husband out of the question, what are your intentions? I don't understand bankruptcy, but I imagine they can do nothing to wife and children. My little ones must have a roof over their heads; and, besides, there is little Maxwell. You decline to go down to Lymport, of course.'
'Decline!' cried the Countess, melodiously; 'and do not you?'
'As far as I am concerned--yes. But I am not to think of myself.'
The Countess meditated, and said: 'Dear Mr. Duflian has offered me his hospitality. Renegades are not absolutely inhuman. They may be generous. I have no moral doubt that Mr. Duflian would, upon my representation--dare I venture?'
'Sleep in his house! break bread with him!' exclaimed Harriet. 'What do you think I am made of? I would perish--go to the workhouse, rather!'
'I see you trooping there,' said the Countess, intent on the vision.
'And have you accepted his invitation for yourself, Louisa?'
The Countess was never to be daunted by threatening aspects. She gave her affirmative with calmness and a deliberate smile.
'You are going to live with him?'
'Live with him! What expressions! My husband accompanies me.'
Harriet drew up.
'I know nothing, Louisa, that could give me more pain.'
The Countess patted Harriet's knee. 'It succeeds to bankruptcy, a.s.suredly. But would you have me drag Silva to the--the shop, Harriet, love? Alternatives!'
Mrs. Andrew got up and rang the bell to have the remains of their dinner removed. When this was done, she said,
'Louisa, I don't know whether I am justified: you told me to-day I might keep my jewels, trinkets, and lace, and such like. To me, I know they do not belong now: but I will dispose of them to procure you an asylum somewhere--they will fetch, I should think, L400,--to prevent your going to Mr. Duffian.'
No exhibition of great-mindedness which the Countess could perceive, ever found her below it.
'Never, love, never!' she said.
'Then, will you go to Evan?'
'Evan? I hate him!' The olive-hued visage was dark. It brightened as she added, 'At least as much as my religious sentiments permit me to. A boy who has thwarted me at every turn!--disgraced us! Indeed, I find it difficult to pardon you the supposition of such a possibility as your own consent to look on him ever again, Harriet.'
'You have no children,' said Mrs. Andrew.
The Countess mournfully admitted it.
'There lies your danger with Mr. Duffian, Louisa!'
'What! do you doubt my virtue?' asked the Countess.
'Pis.h.!.+ I fear something different. You understand me. Mr. Duflian's moral reputation is none of the best, perhaps.'
'That was before he renegaded,' said the Countess.
Harriet bluntly rejoined: 'You will leave that house a Roman Catholic.'
'Now you have spoken,' said the Countess, pluming. 'Now let me explain myself. My dear, I have fought worldly battles too long and too earnestly. I am rightly punished. I do but quote Herbert Duffian's own words: he is no flatterer though you say he has such soft fingers. I am now engaged in a spiritual contest. He is very wealthy! I have resolved to rescue back to our Church what can benefit the flock of which we form a portion, so exceedingly!'
At this revelation of the Countess's spiritual contest, Mrs. Andrew shook a worldly head.
'You have no chance with men there, Louisa.'
'My Harriet complains of female weakness!'