"Have you not?"
"I have asked you for nothing."
"But my daughter is all that I have in the world. Have you asked nothing of her?"
"Yes, Lady Lovel. I have asked much from her, and she has given me all that I have asked. But I have asked nothing, and now claim nothing, as payment for service done. If Lady Anna thinks she is in my debt after such fashion as that, I will soon make her free."
"She does think so, Mr. Thwaite."
"Let her tell me so with her own lips."
"You will not think that I am lying to you."
"And yet men do lie, and women too, without remorse, when the stakes are high. I will believe no one but herself in this. Let her come down and stand before me and look me in the face and tell me that it is so,--and I promise you that there shall be no further difficulty.
I will not even ask to be alone with her. I will speak but a dozen words to her, and you shall hear them."
"She is not here, Mr. Thwaite. She is not living in this house."
"Where is she then?"
"She is staying with friends."
"With the Lovels,--in Yorkshire?"
"I do not think that good can be done by my telling you where she is."
"Do you mean me to understand that she is engaged to the Earl?"
"I tell you this,--that she acknowledges herself to be bound to you, but bound to you simply by grat.i.tude. It seems that there was a promise."
"Oh yes,--there was a promise, Lady Lovel; a promise as firmly spoken as when you told the late lord that you would be his wife."
"I know that there was a promise,--though I, her mother, living with her at the time, had no dream of such wickedness. There was a promise, and by that she feels herself to be in some measure bound."
"She should do so,--if words can ever mean anything."
"I say she does,--but it is only by a feeling of grat.i.tude. What;--is it probable that she should wish to mate so much below her degree, if she were now left to her own choice? Does it seem natural to you?
She loves the young Earl,--as why should she not? She has been thrown into his company on purpose that she might learn to love him,--when no one knew of this horrid promise which had been exacted from her before she had seen any in the world from whom to choose."
"She has seen two now, him and me, and she can choose as she pleases.
Let us both agree to take her at her word, and let us both be present when that word is spoken. If she goes to him and offers him her hand in my presence, I would not take it then though she were a princess, in lieu of being Lady Anna Lovel. Will he treat me as fairly? Will he be as bold to abide by her choice?"
"You can never marry her, Mr. Thwaite."
"Why can I never marry her? Would not my ring be as binding on her finger as his? Would not the parson"s word make me and her one flesh and one bone as irretrievably as though I were ten times an earl? I am a man and she a woman. What law of G.o.d, or of man,--what law of nature can prevent us from being man and wife? I say that I can marry her,--and with her consent, I will."
"Never! You shall never live to call yourself the husband of my daughter. I have striven and suffered,--as never woman strove and suffered before, to give to my child the name and the rank which belong to her. I did not do so that she might throw them away on such a one as you. If you will deal honestly by us--"
"I have dealt by you more than honestly."
"If you will at once free her from this thraldom in which you hold her, and allow her to act in accordance with the dictates of her own heart--"
"That she shall do."
"If you will not hinder us in building up again the honour of the family, which was nigh ruined by the iniquities of my husband, we will bless you."
"I want but one blessing, Lady Lovel."
"And in regard to her money--"
"I do not expect you to believe me, Countess; but her money counts as nothing with me. If it becomes hers and she becomes my wife, as her husband I will protect it for her. But there shall be no dealing between you and me in regard to money."
"There is money due to your father, Mr. Thwaite."
"If so, that can be paid when you come by your own. It was not lent for the sake of a reward."
"And you will not liberate that poor girl from her thraldom."
"She can liberate herself if she will. I have told you what I will do. Let her tell me to my face what she wishes."
"That she shall never do, Mr. Thwaite;--no, by heavens. It is not necessary that she should have your consent to make such an alliance as her friends think proper for her. You have entangled her by a promise, foolish on her part, and very wicked on yours, and you may work us much trouble. You may delay the settlement of all this question,--perhaps for years; and half ruin the estate by prolonged lawsuits; you may make it impossible for me to pay your father what I owe him till he, and I also, shall be no more; but you cannot, and shall not, have access to my daughter."
Daniel Thwaite, as he returned home, tried to think it all over dispa.s.sionately. Was it as the Countess had represented? Was he acting the part of the dog in the manger, robbing others of happiness without the power of achieving his own? He loved the girl, and was he making her miserable by his love? He was almost inclined to think that the Countess had spoken truth in this respect.
END OF VOL. I.
Printed by Virtue and Co., City Road, London.
LADY ANNA.
by
ANTHONY TROLLOPE.
In Two Volumes.
VOL. II.