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

character. But her daughter was imperative, and she gave way.

‘It shall be mild enough in words,’ said Priscilla, ‘and very short.’

Then she wrote her letter as follows:

‘Nuncombe Putney, August 1, 186-.

Dear Aunt Stanbury,

You have found a mare’s nest. The gentleman you speak of has never been

here at all, and the people who bring you news have probably hoaxed

you. I don’t think that mamma has ever disgraced the family, and you

can have no reason for thinking that she ever will. You should, at any

rate, be sure of what you are saying before you make such cruel

accusations,

Yours truly,

‘Priscilla Stanbury.

P.S. Another gentleman did call here not to see Mrs Trevelyan; but

I suppose mamma’s house need not be closed against all visitors.’

Poor Dorothy had passed evil hours from the moment in which her aunt

had so far certified herself as to Colonel Osborne’s visit to Nuncombe

as to make her feel it to be incumbent on her to interfere. After much

consideration Miss Stanbury had told her niece the dreadful news, and

had told also what she intended to do. Dorothy, who was in truth

horrified at the iniquity of the fact which was related, and who never

dreamed of doubting the truth of her aunt’s information, hardly knew

how to interpose. ‘I am sure mamma won’t let there be anything wrong,’

she had said.

‘And you don’t call this wrong?’ said Miss Stanbury, in a tone of

indignation.

‘But perhaps mamma will tell them to go.’

‘I hope she will. I hope she has. But he was allowed to be there for

hours. And now three days have passed and there is no sign of anything

being done. He came and went and may come again when he pleases.’ Still

Dorothy pleaded. ‘I shall do my duty,’ said Miss Stanbury.

‘I am quite sure mamma will do nothing wrong,’ said Dorothy. But the

letter was written and sent, and the answer to the letter reached the

house in the Close in due time.

When Miss. Stanbury had read and re-read the very short reply which her

niece had written, she became at first pale with dismay, and then red

with renewed vigour and obstinacy. She had made herself, as she

thought, quite certain of her facts before she had acted on her

information. There was some equivocation, some most unworthy deceit in

Priscilla’s letter. Or could it be possible that she herself had been

mistaken? Another gentleman had been there not, however, with the

object of seeing Mrs Trevelyan! So said Priscilla. But she had made

herself sure that the man in question was a man from London, a

middle-aged, man from London, who had specially asked for Mrs

Trevelyan, and who had at once been known to Mrs Clegg, at the

Lessboro’ inn, to be Mrs Trevelyan’s lover. Miss Stanbury was very

unhappy, and at last sent for Giles Hickbody. Giles Hickbody had never

pretended to know the name. He had seen the man and had described him,

‘Quite a swell, ma’am; and a Lon’oner, and one as’d be up to anything;

but not a young ‘un; no, not just a young ‘un, zartainly.’ He was

cross-examined again now, and said that all he knew about the man’s

name was that there was a handle to it. This was ended by Miss Stanbury

sending him down to Lessboro’ to learn the very name of the gentleman,

and by his coming back with that of the Honourable George Glascock

written on a piece of paper. ‘They says now as he was arter the other

young ‘ooman,’ said Giles Hickbody. Then was the confusion of Miss

Stanbury complete.

It was late when Giles returned from Lessboro’, and nothing could be

done that night. It was too late to write a letter for the next

morning’s post. Miss Stanbury, who was as proud of her own

discrimination as she was just and true, felt that a day of humiliation

had indeed come for her. She hated Priscilla almost as vigorously as

Priscilla hated her. To Priscilla she would not write to own her fault;

but it was incumbent on her to confess it to Mrs Stanbury. It was

incumbent on her also to confess it to Dorothy. All that night she did

not sleep, and the next morning she went about abashed, wretched,

hardly mistress of her own maids. She must confess it also to Martha,

and Martha would be very stern to her. Martha had poob-poohed the whole

story of the lover, seeming to think that there could be no reasonable

objection to a lover past fifty.

‘Dorothy,’ she said at last, about noon, ‘I have been over hasty about

your mother and this man. I am sorry for it, and must beg everybody’s

pardon.’

‘I knew mamma would do nothing wrong,’ said Dorothy.

‘To do wrong is human, and she, I suppose, is not more free than

others; but in this matter I was misinformed. I shall write and beg her

pardon; and now I beg your pardon.’

‘Not mine, Aunt Stanbury.’

‘Yes, yours and your mother’s, and the lady’s also for against her has

the fault been most grievous. I shall write to your mother and express

my contrition.’ She put off the evil hour of writing as long as she

could, but before dinner the painful letter had been written, and

carried by herself to the post. It was as follows:

‘The Close, August 9, 186-.

Dear Sister Stanbury,

I have now learned that the information was false on which my former

letter was based. I am heartily sorry for any annoyance I may have

given you. I can only inform you that my intentions were good and

upright. Nevertheless, I humbly beg your pardon.

Yours truly,

Jemima Stanbury.’

Mrs Stanbury, when she received this, was inclined to let the matter

drop. That her sister-in-law should express such abject contrition was

to her such a lowering of the great ones of the earth, that the apology

conveyed to her more pain than pleasure. She could not hinder herself

from sympathising with all that her sister-in-law had felt when she had

found herself called upon to humiliate herself. But it was not so with

Priscilla. Mrs Stanbury did not observe that her daughter’s name was

scrupulously avoided in the apology; but Priscilla observed it. She

would not let the matter drop, without an attempt at the last word.

She therefore wrote back again as follows:

‘Nuncombe Putney, August 4, 186-.

DEAR AUNT STANBURY,

I am glad you have satisfied yourself about the gentleman who has so

much disquieted you. I do not know that the whole affair would be worth

a moment’s consideration, were it not that mamma and I, living as we do

so secluded a life, are peculiarly apt to feel any attack upon our good

name which is pretty nearly all that is left to us. If ever there were

women who should be free from attack, at any rate from those of their

own family, we are such women. We never interfere with you, or with

anybody; and I think you might abstain from harassing us by

accusations.

Pray do not write to mamma in such a strain again, unless you are quite

sure of your ground.

Yours truly,

PRISCILLA STANBURY.’

‘Impudent vixen!’ said Miss Stanbury to Martha, when she had read the

letter. ‘Ill-conditioned, impudent vixen!’

‘She was provoked, miss,’ said Martha.

‘Well; yes; yes and I suppose it is right that you should tell me of

it. I dare say it is part of what I ought to bear for being an old

fool, and too cautious about my own flesh and blood. I will bear it.

There. I was wrong, and I will say that I have been justly punished.

There there!’

How very much would Miss Stanbury’s tone have been changed had she

known that at that very moment Colonel Osborne was eating his breakfast

at Mrs Crocket’s inn, in Nuncombe Putney!