Anthony Trollope

“ But one cannot laugh with all the world against one.'
'I am not against you, Miss Dunstable.'
'Sell yourself for money! why, if I were a man I would not sell one jot of liberty for mountains of gold. What! tie myself in the heyday of my youth to a person I could never love, for price! perjure myself, destroy myself—and not only myself, but her also, in order that I might live idly! Oh, heavens! Mr. Gresham! can it be that the words of such a woman as your aunt have sunk so deeply in your heart; have blackened you so foully as to make you think of such vile folly as this? Have you forgotten your soul, your spirit, your man's energy, the treasure of your heart? And you, so young! ”

“ When Mary had, as she thought, properly subdued young Frank, the offer of whose love she, at any rate, knew was, at such a period of his life, an utter absurdity, then she found it necessary to subdue herself. What happiness on earth could be greater than the possession of such a love, had the true possession been justly and honestly within her reach? What man could be more lovable than such a man as would grow from such a boy? ”

“ If it was so that Frank's folly had been listened to with a certain amount of pleasure, Mary did not even admit so much to herself. But why should it have been otherwise? Why should she have been less prone to love than he was? Had he not everything which girls do love? which girls should love? which God created noble, beautiful, all but godlike, in order that women, all but goddesslike, might love? To love thoroughly, truly, heartily, with her whole body, soul, heart, and strength; should not that be counted for a merit in a woman? ”

“ And then the doctor silently, and almost unconsciously, made such a comparison between Louis Scatcherd and Frank Gresham as Hamlet made between the dead and live king. It was Hyperion to a satyr. Was it not as impossible that Mary should not love the one, as that she should love the other? Frank's offer of his affections had at first probably been but a boyish ebullition of feeling; but if it should now be, that this had grown into a manly and disinterested love, how could Mary remain unmoved? What could her heart want more, better, more beautiful, more rich than such a love as his? ”

“ Had I waited ten years longer, how different would everything have been! No, Frank, I cannot consent to such a marriage; nor will your mother.'
'It is your consent I ask, sir; and I am asking for nothing but your consent.'
'It would be sheer madness; madness for you both. My own Frank, my dear, dear boy, do not drive me to distraction! Give it up for four years.'
'Four years!'
'Yes; for four years. I ask it as a personal favour; as an obligation to myself, in order that we may be saved from ruin, you, your mother, and sisters, your family name, and the old house. ”

“ Frank was of course obliged to promise that he would do so.
'You are going—or rather you were going, for I shall stop you—to make to me a profession of love.'
'A profession!' said Frank, making a slight unsuccessful effort to get his hand free.
'Yes; a profession—a false profession, Mr. Gresham,—a false profession—a false profession. Look into your heart—into your heart of hearts. I know you at any rate have a heart; look into it closely. Mr. Gresham, you know you do not love me; not as a man should love the woman whom he swears to love.'
Frank was taken aback. ”

“ Oriel, I do so wonder at it! To me it is so delightful! The morning service in the dark church is so beautiful, so touching!'
'I suppose they think it is a bore getting up so early,' said Mr. Oriel.
'Ah, a bore!' said Miss Gushing, in an enthusiastic tone of depreciation. 'How insensate they must be! To me it gives a new charm to life. It quiets one for the day; makes one so much fitter for one's daily trials and daily troubles. Does it not, Mr. Oriel?'
'I look upon morning prayer as an imperative duty, certainly.'
'Oh, certainly, a most imperative duty; but so delicious at the same time. ”

“ But yet, what man would marry this bastard child, without a sixpence, and bring not only poverty, but ill blood also on his own children? It might be very well for him, Dr. Thorne; for him whose career was made, whose name, at any rate, was his own; for him who had a fixed standing-ground in the world; it might be well for him to indulge in large views of a philosophy antagonistic to the world's practice; but had he a right to do it for his niece? What man would marry a girl so placed? For those among whom she might have legitimately found a level, education had now utterly unfitted her. ”

“ Mary's child, my own Mary's child, and I'm not to see her! But, Thorne, I tell you what; I will see her. I'll go over to her, I'll go to Greshamsbury, and tell her who I am, and what I can do for her. I tell you fairly I will. You shall not keep her away from those who belong to her, and can do her a good turn. Mary's daughter; another Mary Scatcherd! I almost wish she were called Mary Scatcherd. Is she like her, Thorne? Come, tell me that, is she like her mother. ”

“ Oh, I love you, Trichy—Trichy, I do love you so much! Don't turn away from me!'
There was such a mixture in Mary's manner of tenderness and almost ferocity, that poor Beatrice could hardly follow her. 'Turn away from you, Mary! no, never; but this does make me unhappy.'
'It is better you should know it all, and then you will not be led into fighting my battles again. You cannot fight them so that I should win: I do love your brother; love him truly, fondly, tenderly. ”

“ The doctor said that he did know it. "And it will be so pleasant that Mary should make one of us. Poor Beatrice; you don't know what she has suffered."
"Yes," said the doctor, "there has been suffering, I am sure; suffering on both sides."
"You cannot wonder that we should be so anxious about Frank, Dr Thorne; an only son, and the heir to an estate that has been so very long in the family:" and Lady Arabella put her handkerchief to her eyes, as though these facts were in themselves melancholy, and not to be thought of by a mother without some soft tears. ”

“ I have nothing to say against it."
"But are you not preparing wretchedness and unhappiness for yourself?"
"Very likely."
"Oh, Mary, do not be so cold with me! you know how delighted I should be to have you for a sister-in-law, if only it were possible."
"Yes, Trichy; but it is impossible, is it not? Impossible that Francis Gresham of Greshamsbury should disgrace himself by marrying such a poor creature as I am. Of course, I know it; of course, I am prepared for unhappiness and misery. He can amuse himself as he likes with me or others—with anybody. It is his privilege. ”

“ Had Mary been looking on, she, perhaps, might have thought that he could have done so with less of that look of devotion which he threw into his eyes.
"Well, Mr Gresham, that's very civil—very civil indeed," said Miss Dunstable. "Upon my word, if a lady wanted a true knight she might do worse than trust to you. Only I fear that your courage is of so exalted a nature that you would be ever ready to do battle for any beauty who might be in distress—or, indeed, who might not. You could never confine your valour to the protection of one maiden." ”

“ Long before the doctor returned home after the little dinner-party above described, Mary had learnt that Frank was already at Greshamsbury. She had heard nothing of him or from him, not a word, nothing in the shape of a message, for twelve months; and at her age twelve months is a long period. Would he come and see her in spite of his mother? Would he send her any tidings of his return, or notice her in any way? If he did not, what would she do? and if he did, what then would she do? It was so hard to resolve; so hard to be deserted; and so hard to dare to wish that she might not be deserted! ”

“ But she thought not only of Frank; dreamed not only of him. What had he not done for her, that uncle of hers, who had been more loving to her than any father! How was he, too, to be paid? Paid, indeed! Love can only be paid in its own coin: it knows of no other legal tender. Well, if her home was to be Greshamsbury, at any rate she would not be separated from him.
What the doctor dreamed of that, neither he or any one ever knew. "Why, uncle, I think you've been asleep," said Mary to him that evening as he moved for a moment uneasily on the sofa. ”

“ The father again sat silent, still sipping his wine. There was nothing in his son that he could be ashamed of, nothing that he could meet with anger, nothing that he could not love; but how should he answer him? The fact was, that the son had more in him than the father; that his mind and spirit were of a calibre not to be opposed successfully by the mind and spirit of the squire.
'Do you know Mary's history?' said Mr. Gresham, at last; 'the history of her birth?'
'Not a word of it,' said Frank. ”

“ Beatrice had talked in utter ignorance as to her friend's birth; and Mary, poor Mary, she had talked, being as ignorant; but not without a strong suspicion that, at some future time, a day of sorrow would tell her some fearful truth.
On one point Mary's mind was strongly made up. No wealth, no mere worldly advantage could make any one her superior. If she were born a gentlewoman, then was she fit to match with any gentleman. Let the most wealthy man in Europe pour all his wealth at her feet, she could, if so inclined, give him back at any rate more than that. ”

“ And so by degrees the winter wore away—very slowly to Frank, as he declared often enough; and slowly, perhaps, to Mary also, though she did not say so. The winter wore away and the chill, bitter, windy, early spring came round. The comic almanacs gives us dreadful pictures of January and February; but, in truth, the months which should be made to look gloomy in England are March and April. Let no man boast himself that he has got through the perils of winter till at least the seventh of May.
It was early in April, however, that the great doings were to be done at Greshamsbury. ”

“ Lady Arabella was unable to comprehend this, and, therefore, was Lady Arabella so utterly distasteful to her.
Frank had once held her close to his warm breast; and her very soul had thrilled with joy to feel that he so loved her,—with a joy which she had hardly dared to acknowledge. At that moment, her maidenly efforts had been made to push him off but her heart had grown to his. She had acknowledged him to be master of her spirit; her bosom's lord; the man whom she had been born to worship; the human being to whom it was for her to link her destiny. Frank's acres had been of no account ”

“ And then Mary, with a calm brow and steady gait, went in and made the tea.
And what might be the feelings of her heart when she so sententiously told her uncle that Frank had been foolish? She was of the same age with him; as impressible, though more powerful in hiding such impressions,—as all women should be; her heart was as warm, her blood as full of life, her innate desire for the companionship of some much-loved object as strong as his. Frank had been foolish in avowing his passion. ”

“ This to her who was so ready to give everything!
'Lady Arabella,' she said, 'I think that you do not understand me, and that it is not likely that you should. If so, our further talking will be worse than useless. I have taken no account of what will be given between your son and me in your sense of the word giving. But he has professed to—to love me'—as she spoke, she still looked on the lady's face, but her eyelashes for a moment screened her eyes, and her colour was a little heightened—'and I have acknowledged that I also love him, and so we were engaged. To me my promise is sacred. ”

“ Gresham was now an embarrassed man, and though the world did not know it, or, at any rate, did not know that he was deeply embarrassed, he had not the heart to throw open his mansion and park and receive the county with a free hand as though all things were going well with him.
Nothing was going well with him. Lady Arabella would allow nothing near him or around him to be well. Everything with him now turned to vexation; he was no longer a joyous, happy man, and the people of East Barsetshire did not look for gala doings on a grand scale when young Gresham came of age. ”