He Knew He Was Right by Anthony Trollope (books you need to read .txt) 📕

Mrs Trevelyan should not be brought together. Sir Marmaduke had fumed,

but Lady Rowley had been firm. ‘If you think so, mamma,’ Mrs Trevelyan

had said, with something of scorn in her tone ‘of course let it be so.’

Lady Rowley had said that it would be better so; and the two had not

seen each other since the memorable visit to Nuncombe Putney. And now

Lady Rowley was about to meet her son-in law with some slight hope that

she might arrange affairs. She was quite aware that present

indignation, though certainly a gratification, might be indulged in at

much too great a cost. It would be better for all reasons that Emily

should go back to her husband and her home, and that Trevelyan should

be forgiven for his iniquities.

Bozzle was at the tavern during the interview, but he was not seen by

Lady Rowley. He remained seated downstairs, in one of the dingy

corners, ready to give assistance to his patron should assistance be

needed. When Lady Rowley was shown into the gloomy sitting-room by the

old waiter, she found Trevelyan alone, standing in the middle of the

room, and waiting for her. ‘This is a sad occasion,’ he said, as he

advanced to give her his hand.

‘A very sad occasion, Louis.’

‘I do not know what you may have heard of what has occurred, Lady

Rowley. It is natural, however, to suppose that you must have heard me

spoken of with censure.’

‘I think my child has been ill used, Louis,’ she replied.

‘Of course you do. I could not expect that it should be otherwise. When

it was arranged that I should meet you here, I was quite aware that you

would have taken the side against me before you had heard my story. It

is I that have been ill used—cruelly misused; but I do not expect that

you should believe me. I do not wish you to do. I would not for worlds

separate the mother from her daughter.’

‘But why have you separated your own wife from her child?’

‘Because it was my duty. What! Is a father not to have the charge of

his own son. I have done nothing, Lady Rowley, to justify a separation

which is contrary to the laws of nature.’

‘Where is the boy, Louis?’

‘Ah that is just what I am not prepared to tell any one who has taken

my wife’s side till I know that my wife has consented to pay to me that

obedience which I, as her husband, have a right to demand. If Emily

will do as I request of her, as I command her,’ as Trevelyan said this,

he spoke in a tone which was intended to give the highest possible idea

of his own authority and dignity, ‘then she may see her child without

delay.’

‘What is it you request of my daughter?’

‘Obedience, simply that. Submission to my will, which is surely a wife’s

duty. Let her beg my pardon for what has occurred.’

‘She cannot do that, Louis.’

‘And solemnly promise me,’ continued Trevelyan, not deigning to notice

Lady Rowley’s interruption, ‘that she will hold no further intercourse

with that snake in the grass who wormed his way into my house; let her

be humble, and penitent, and affectionate, and then she shall be

restored to her husband and to her child.’ He said this walking up and

down the room, and waving his hand, as though he were making a speech

that was intended to be eloquent, as though he had conceived that he was

to overcome his mother-in-law by the weight of his words and the

magnificence of his demeanour. And yet his demeanour was ridiculous,

and his words would have had no weight had they not tended to show Lady

Rowley how little prospect there was that she should be able to heal

this breach. He himself, too, was so altered in appearance since she

had last seen him, bright with the hopes of his young married

happiness, that she would hardly have recognised him had she met him in

the street. He was thin, and pale, and haggard, and mean. And as he

stalked up and down the room, it seemed to her that the very character

of the man was changed. She had not previously known him to be pompous,

unreasonable, and absurd. She did not answer him at once, as she

perceived that he had not finished his address and, after a moment’s

pause, he continued. ‘Lady Rowley, there is nothing I would not have

done for your daughter, for my wife. All that I had was hers. I did not

dictate to her any mode of life; I required from her no sacrifices; I

subjected her to no caprices; but I was determined to be master in my

own house.’

‘I do not think, Louis, that she has ever denied your right to be

master.’

‘To be master in my own house, and to be paramount in my influence over

her. So much I had a right to demand.’

‘Who has denied your right?’

‘She has submitted herself to the counsels and to the influences of a

man who has endeavoured to undermine me in her affection. In saying

that I make my accusation as light against her as is possible. I might

make it much heavier, and yet not sin against the truth.’

‘This is an illusion, Louis.’

‘Ah well. No doubt it becomes you to defend your child. Was it an

illusion when he went to Devonshire? Was it an illusion when he

corresponded with her contrary to my express orders both before and

after that unhallowed journey? Lady Rowley, there must be no more such

illusions. If my wife means to come back to me, and to have her child

in her own hands, she must be penitent as regards the past, and

obedient as regards the future.’

There was a wicked bitterness in that word penitent which almost

maddened Lady Rowley. She had come to this meeting believing that

Trevelyan would be rejoiced to take back his wife, if details could be

arranged for his doing so which should not subject him to the necessity

of crying, peccavi; but she found him speaking of his wife as though he

would be doing her the greatest possible favour in allowing her to come

back to him dressed in sackcloth, and with ashes on her head. She could

understand from what she had heard that his tone and manner were much

changed since he obtained possession of the child, and that he now

conceived that he had his wife within his power. That he should become

a tyrant because he had the power to tyrannise was not in accordance

with her former conception of the man’s character, but then he was so

changed, that she felt that she knew nothing of the man who now stood

before her. ‘I cannot acknowledge that my daughter has done anything

that requires penitence,’ said Lady Rowley.

‘I dare say not, but my view is different.’

‘She cannot admit herself to be wrong when she knows herself to be

right. You would not have her confess to a fault, the very idea of

which has always been abhorrent to her?’

‘She must be crushed in spirit, Lady Rowley, before she can again

become a pure and happy woman.’

‘This is more than I can bear,’ said Lady Rowley, now, at last, worked

up to a fever of indignation. ‘My daughter, sir, is as pure a woman as

you have ever known, or are likely to know. You, who should have

protected her against the world, will some day take blame to yourself

as you remember that you have so cruelly maligned her.’ Then she walked

away to the door, and would not listen to the words which he was

hurling after her. She went down the stairs, and out of the house, and

at the end of Poulter’s Alley found the cab which was waiting for her.

Trevelyan, as soon as he was alone, rang the bell, and sent for Bozzle.

And while the waiter was coming to him, and until his myrmidon had

appeared, he continued to stalk up and down the room, waving his hand

in the air as though he were continuing his speech. ‘Bozzle,’ said he,

as soon as the man had closed the door, ‘I have changed my mind.’

‘As how, Mr Trewillian?’

‘I shall make no further attempt. I have done all that man can do, and

have done it in vain. Her father and mother uphold her in her conduct,

and she is lost to me for ever.’

‘But the boy, Mr T.?’

‘I have my child. Yes I have my child. Poor infant. Bozzle, I look to

you to see that none of them learn our retreat.’

‘As for that, Mr Trewillian, why, facts is to be come at by one party

pretty well as much as by another. Now, suppose the things was changed,

wicey warsey, and as I was hacting for the Colonel’s party.’

‘D the Colonel!’ exclaimed Trevelyan.

‘Just so, Mr Trewillian; but if I was hacting for the other party, and

they said to me, “Bozzle where’s the boy?” why, in three days I’d be

down on the facts. Facts is open, Mr Trewillian, if you knows where to

look for them.’

‘I shall take him abroad at once.’

‘Think twice of it, Mr T. The boy is so young, you see, and a mother’s

‘art is softer and lovinger than anything. I’d think twice of it, Mr

T., before I kept ‘em apart.’ This was a line of thought which Mr

Bozzle’s conscience had not forced him to entertain to the prejudice of

his professional arrangements; but now, as he conversed with his

employer, and became by degrees aware of the failure of Trevelyan’s

mind, some shade of remorse came upon him, and made him say a word on

behalf of the ‘other party.’

‘Am I not always thinking of it? What else have they left me to think

of? That will do for to-day. You had better come down to me tomorrow

afternoon.’ Bozzle promised obedience to these instructions, and as

soon as his patron had started he paid the bill, and took himself home.

Lady Rowley, as she travelled back to her house in Manchester Street,

almost made up her mind that the separation between her daughter and

her son-in-law had better be continued. It was a very sad conclusion to

which to come, but she could not believe that any high-spirited woman

could long continue to submit herself to the caprices of a man so

unreasonable and dictatorial as he to whom she had just been listening.

Were it not for the boy, there would, she felt, be no doubt upon the

matter. And now, as matters stood, she thought that it should be their

great object to regain possession of the child. Then she endeavoured to

calculate what would be the result to her daughter, if in very truth it

should be found that the wretched man was mad. To hope for such a

result seemed to her to be very wicked and yet she hardly knew how not

to hope for it.

‘Well, mamma,’ said Emily Trevelyan, with a faint attempt at a smile,

‘you saw him?’

‘Yes, dearest, I saw him. I can only say that he is a most unreasonable

man.’

‘And he would tell you nothing of Louey?’

‘No dear not a word.’