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

LABURNUM COTTAGE

There had been various letters passing, during the last six weeks,

between Priscilla Stanbury and her brother, respecting the Clock House

at Nuncombe Putney. The ladies at Nuncombe had, certainly, gone into

the Clock House on the clear understanding that the expenses of the

establishment were to be incurred on behalf of Mrs Trevelyan. Priscilla

had assented to the movement most doubtingly. She had disliked the idea

of taking the charge of a young married woman who was separated from

her husband, and she had felt that a going down after such an uprising,

a fall from the Clock House back to a cottage, would be very

disagreeable. She had, however, allowed her brother’s arguments to

prevail, and there they were. The annoyance which she had anticipated

from the position of their late guest had fallen upon them: it had been

felt grievously, from the moment in which Colonel Osborne called at the

house; and now that going back to the cottage must be endured.

Priscilla understood that there had been a settlement between Trevelyan

and Stanbury as to the cost of the establishment so far, but that must

now be at an end. In their present circumstances, she would not

continue to live there, and had already made inquiries as to some

humble roof for their shelter. For herself she would not have cared had

it been necessary for her to hide herself in a hut for herself, as

regarded any feeling as to her own standing in the village. For

herself, she was ashamed of nothing. But her mother would suffer, and

she knew what Aunt Stanbury would say to Dorothy. To Dorothy at the

present moment, if Dorothy should think of accepting her suitor, the

change might be very deleterious; but still it should be made. She

could not endure to live there on the very hard-earned proceeds of her

brother’s pen, proceeds which were not only hard-earned, but precarious.

She gave warning to the two servants who had been hired, and consulted

with Mrs Crocket as to a cottage, and was careful to let it be known

throughout Nuncombe Putney that the Clock House was to be abandoned.

The Clock House had been taken furnished for six months, of which half

were not yet over; but there were other expenses of living there much

greater than the rent, and go she would. Her mother sighed and

assented; and Mrs Crocket, having strongly but fruitlessly advised that

the Clock House should be inhabited at any rate for the six months,

promised her assistance. ‘It has been a bad business, Mrs Crocket,’

said Priscilla; ‘and all we can do now is to get out of it as well as

we can. Every mouthful I eat chokes me while I stay there.’ ‘It ain’t

good, certainly, miss, not to know as you’re all straight the first

thing as you wakes in the morning,’ said Mrs Crocket who was always

able to feel when she woke that everything was straight with her.

Then there came the correspondence between Priscilla and Hugh.

Priscilla was at first decided, indeed, but mild in the expression of

her decision. To this, and to one or two other missives couched in

terms of increasing decision, Hugh answered with manly, self-asserting,

overbearing arguments. The house was theirs till Christmas; between

this and then he would think about it. He could very well afford to

keep the house on till next Midsummer, and then they might see what had

best be done. There was plenty of money, and Priscilla need not put

herself into a flutter. In answer to that word flutter, Priscilla wrote

as follows:

‘Clock House, September 16, 186-

DEAR HUGH,

I know very well how good you are, and how generous, but you must allow

me to have feelings as well as yourself. I will not consent to have

myself regarded as a grand lady out of your earnings. How should I feel

when some day I heard that you had run yourself into debt? Neither

mamma nor I could endure it. Dorothy is provided for now, at any rate

for a time, and what we have is enough for us. You know I am not too

proud to take anything you can spare us, when we are ourselves placed

in a proper position; but I could not live in this great house, while

you are paying for everything, and I will not. Mamma quite agrees with

me, and we shall go out of it on Michaelmas-day. Mrs Crocket says she

thinks she can get you a tenant for the three months, out of Exeter, if

not for the whole rent, at least for part of it. I think we have

already got a small place for eight shillings a week, a little out of

the village, on the road to Cockchaffington. You will remember it. Old

Soames used to live there. Our old furniture will be just enough. There

is a mite of a garden, and Mrs Crocket says she thinks we can get it

for seven shillings, or perhaps for six and sixpence, if we stay there.

We shall go in on the 29th. Mrs Crocket will see about having somebody

to take care of the house.

Your most affectionate sister,

PRISCILLA.’

On the receipt of this letter, Hugh proceeded to Nuncombe. At this time

he was making about ten guineas a week, and thought that he saw his way

to further work. No doubt the ten guineas were precarious; that is, the

‘Daily Record’ might discontinue his services tomorrow, if the ‘Daily

Record’ thought fit to do so. The greater part of his earnings came

from the ‘D. R.,’ and the editor had only to say that things did not

suit any longer, and there would be an end of it. He was not as a

lawyer or a doctor with many clients who could not all be supposed to

withdraw their custom at once; but leading articles were things wanted

with at least as much regularity as physic or law; and Hugh Stanbury,

believing in himself, did not think it probable that an editor, who

knew what he was about, would withdraw his patronage. He was proud of

his weekly ten guineas, feeling sure that a weekly ten guineas would

not as yet have been his had he stuck to the Bar as a profession. He

had calculated, when Mrs Trevelyan left the Clock House, that two

hundred a year would enable his mother to continue to reside there, the

rent of the place furnished, or half-furnished, being only eighty; and

he thought that he could pay the two hundred easily. He thought so

still, when he received Priscilla’s last letter; but he knew something

of the stubbornness of his dear sister, and he, therefore, went down to

Nuncombe Putney, in order that he might use the violence of his logic

on his mother.

He had heard of Mr Gibson from both Priscilla and from Dorothy, and was

certainly desirous that ‘dear old Dolly,’ as he called her, should be

settled comfortably. But when dear old Dolly wrote to him declaring

that it could not be so, that Mr Gibson was a very nice gentleman, of

whom she could not say that she was particularly fond, ‘though I really

do think that he is an excellent man, and if it was any other girl in

the world, I should recommend her to take him,’ and that she thought

that she would rather not get married, he wrote to her the kindest

brotherly letter in the world,