Doctor Thorne by Anthony Trollope (epub ebook reader .TXT) đź“•
The two eldest, Augusta and Beatrice, lived, and were apparently likely to live. The four next faded and died one after another--all in the same sad year--and were laid in the neat, new cemetery at Torquay. Then came a pair, born at one birth, weak, delicate, frail little flowers, with dark hair and dark eyes, and thin, long, pale faces, with long, bony hands, and long bony feet, whom men looked on as fated to follow their sisters with quick steps. Hitherto, however, they had not followed them, nor had they suffered as their sisters had suffered; and some people at Greshamsbury attributed this to the fact that a change had been made in the family medical practitioner.
Then came the youngest of the flock, she whose birth we have said was not heralded with loud joy; for when she came into the world, four others, with pale temples, wan, worn cheeks,
Read free book «Doctor Thorne by Anthony Trollope (epub ebook reader .TXT) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Anthony Trollope
- Performer: -
Read book online «Doctor Thorne by Anthony Trollope (epub ebook reader .TXT) 📕». Author - Anthony Trollope
stronger de Courcy intonation; “and your duty also, Dr Thorne.”
“My duty!” said he, rising from his chair and leaning on the table
with the two thigh-bones. “Lady Arabella, pray understand at once,
that I repudiate any such duty, and will have nothing whatever to do
with it.”
“But you do not mean to say that you will encourage this unfortunate
boy to marry your niece?”
“The unfortunate boy, Lady Arabella—whom, by the by, I regard as
a very fortunate young man—is your son, not mine. I shall take no
steps about his marriage, either one way or the other.”
“You think it right, then, that your niece should throw herself in
his way?”
“Throw herself in his way! What would you say if I came up to
Greshamsbury, and spoke to you of your daughters in such language?
What would my dear friend Mr Gresham say, if some neighbour’s wife
should come and so speak to him? I will tell you what he would say:
he would quietly beg her to go back to her own home and meddle only
with her own matters.”
This was dreadful to Lady Arabella. Even Dr Thorne had never before
dared thus to lower her to the level of common humanity, and liken
her to any other wife in the country-side. Moreover, she was not
quite sure whether he, the parish doctor, was not desiring her, the
earl’s daughter, to go home and mind her own business. On this first
point, however, there seemed to be no room for doubt, of which she
gave herself the benefit.
“It would not become me to argue with you, Dr Thorne,” she said.
“Not at least on this subject,” said he.
“I can only repeat that I mean nothing offensive to our dear Mary;
for whom, I think I may say, I have always shown almost a mother’s
care.”
“Neither am I, nor is Mary, ungrateful for the kindness she has
received at Greshamsbury.”
“But I must do my duty: my own children must be my first
consideration.”
“Of course they must, Lady Arabella; that’s of course.”
“And, therefore, I have called on you to say that I think it is
imprudent that Beatrice and Mary should be so much together.”
The doctor had been standing during the latter part of this
conversation, but now he began to walk about, still holding the two
bones like a pair of dumb-bells.
“God bless my soul!” he said; “God bless my soul! Why, Lady Arabella,
do you suspect your own daughter as well as your own son? Do you
think that Beatrice is assisting Mary in preparing this wicked
clandestine marriage? I tell you fairly, Lady Arabella, the present
tone of your mind is such that I cannot understand it.”
“I suspect nobody, Dr Thorne; but young people will be young.”
“And old people must be old, I suppose; the more’s the pity. Lady
Arabella, Mary is the same to me as my own daughter, and owes me the
obedience of a child; but as I do not disapprove of your daughter
Beatrice as an acquaintance for her, but rather, on the other hand,
regard with pleasure their friendship, you cannot expect that I
should take any steps to put an end to it.”
“But suppose it should lead to renewed intercourse between Frank and
Mary?”
“I have no objection. Frank is a very nice young fellow,
gentleman-like in his manners, and neighbourly in his disposition.”
“Dr Thorne—”
“Lady Arabella—”
“I cannot believe that you really intend to express a wish—”
“You are quite right. I have not intended to express any wish; nor do
I intend to do so. Mary is at liberty, within certain bounds—which
I am sure she will not pass—to choose her own friends. I think she
has not chosen badly as regards Miss Beatrice Gresham; and should she
even add Frank Gresham to the number—”
“Friends! why they were more than friends; they were declared
lovers.”
“I doubt that, Lady Arabella, because I have not heard of it from
Mary. But even if it were so, I do not see why I should object.”
“Not object!”
“As I said before, Frank is, to my thinking, an excellent young man.
Why should I object?”
“Dr Thorne!” said her ladyship, now also rising from her chair in a
state of too evident perturbation.
“Why should I object? It is for you, Lady Arabella, to look after
your lambs; for me to see that, if possible, no harm shall come to
mine. If you think that Mary is an improper acquaintance for your
children, it is for you to guide them; for you and their father. Say
what you think fit to your own daughter; but pray understand, once
for all, that I will allow no one to interfere with my niece.”
“Interfere!” said Lady Arabella, now absolutely confused by the
severity of the doctor’s manner.
“I will allow no one to interfere with her; no one, Lady Arabella.
She has suffered very greatly from imputations which you have most
unjustly thrown on her. It was, however, your undoubted right to turn
her out of your house if you thought fit;—though, as a woman who
had known her for so many years, you might, I think, have treated
her with more forbearance. That, however, was your right, and you
exercised it. There your privilege stops; yes, and must stop, Lady
Arabella. You shall not persecute her here, on the only spot of
ground she can call her own.”
“Persecute her, Dr Thorne! You do not mean to say that I have
persecuted her?”
“Ah! but I do mean to say so. You do persecute her, and would
continue to do so did I not defend her. It is not sufficient that
she is forbidden to enter your domain—and so forbidden with the
knowledge of all the country round—but you must come here also with
the hope of interrupting all the innocent pleasures of her life.
Fearing lest she should be allowed even to speak to your son, to hear
a word of him through his own sister, you would put her in prison,
tie her up, keep her from the light of day—”
“Dr Thorne! how can you—”
But the doctor was not to be interrupted.
“It never occurs to you to tie him up, to put him in prison. No; he
is the heir of Greshamsbury; he is your son, an earl’s grandson. It
is only natural, after all, that he should throw a few foolish words
at the doctor’s niece. But she! it is an offence not to be forgiven
on her part that she should, however, unwillingly, have been forced
to listen to them! Now understand me, Lady Arabella; if any of your
family come to my house I shall be delighted to welcome them: if Mary
should meet any of them elsewhere I shall be delighted to hear of it.
Should she tell me to-morrow that she was engaged to marry Frank, I
should talk the matter over with her, quite coolly, solely with a
view to her interest, as would be my duty; feeling, at the same time,
that Frank would be lucky in having such a wife. Now you know my
mind, Lady Arabella. It is so I should do my duty;—you can do yours
as you may think fit.”
Lady Arabella had by this time perceived that she was not destined on
this occasion to gain any great victory. She, however, was angry as
well as the doctor. It was not the man’s vehemence that provoked her
so much as his evident determination to break down the prestige of
her rank, and place her on a footing in no respect superior to his
own. He had never before been so audaciously arrogant; and, as she
moved towards the door, she determined in her wrath that she would
never again have confidential intercourse with him in any relation of
life whatsoever.
“Dr Thorne,” said she. “I think you have forgotten yourself. You must
excuse me if I say that after what has passed I—I—I—”
“Certainly,” said he, fully understanding what she meant; and bowing
low as he opened first the study-door, then the front-door, then the
garden-gate.
And then Lady Arabella stalked off, not without full observation from
Mrs Yates Umbleby and her friend Miss Gushing, who lived close by.
Miss Thorne Goes on a Visit
And now began the unpleasant things at Greshamsbury of which we have
here told. When Lady Arabella walked away from the doctor’s house
she resolved that, let it cost what it might, there should be war to
the knife between her and him. She had been insulted by him—so at
least she said to herself, and so she was prepared to say to others
also—and it was not to be borne that a de Courcy should allow her
parish doctor to insult her with impunity. She would tell her husband
with all the dignity that she could assume, that it had now become
absolutely necessary that he should protect his wife by breaking
entirely with his unmannered neighbour; and, as regarded the young
members of her family, she would use the authority of a mother, and
absolutely forbid them to hold any intercourse with Mary Thorne. So
resolving, she walked quickly back to her own house.
The doctor, when left alone, was not quite satisfied with the part he
had taken in the interview. He had spoken from impulse rather than
from judgement, and, as is generally the case with men who do so
speak, he had afterwards to acknowledge to himself that he had been
imprudent. He accused himself probably of more violence than he
had really used, and was therefore unhappy; but, nevertheless, his
indignation was not at rest. He was angry with himself; but not
on that account the less angry with Lady Arabella. She was cruel,
overbearing, and unreasonable; cruel in the most cruel of manners, so
he thought; but not on that account was he justified in forgetting
the forbearance due from a gentleman to a lady. Mary, moreover, had
owed much to the kindness of this woman, and, therefore, Dr Thorne
felt that he should have forgiven much.
Thus the doctor walked about his room, much disturbed; now accusing
himself for having been so angry with Lady Arabella, and then feeding
his own anger by thinking of her misconduct.
The only immediate conclusion at which he resolved was this, that it
was unnecessary that he should say anything to Mary on the subject
of her ladyship’s visit. There was, no doubt, sorrow enough in store
for his darling; why should he aggravate it? Lady Arabella would
doubtless not stop now in her course; but why should he accelerate
the evil which she would doubtless be able to effect?
Lady Arabella, when she returned to the house, allowed no grass to
grow under her feet. As she entered the house she desired that Miss
Beatrice should be sent to her directly she returned; and she desired
also, that as soon as the squire should be in his room a message to
that effect might be immediately brought to her.
“Beatrice,” she said, as soon as the young lady appeared before her,
and in speaking she assumed her firmest tone of authority, “Beatrice,
I am sorry, my dear, to say anything that is unpleasant to you, but I
must make it a positive request that you will for the future drop all
intercourse with Dr Thorne’s family.”
Beatrice, who had received Lady Arabella’s message immediately on
entering
Comments (0)