She merely smiled, and shook her head. Then he went on speaking.
"I hope I"m not giving offence. It"s not what I mean, if I am."
"You are not giving any offence, Mr Rubb; only I think you are mistaken about my relatives at Twickenham."
"Of course, I may be; there"s no doubt of that. I may be mistaken, like another. But, Miss Mackenzie, by heavens, I can"t bring myself to think it." As he spoke in this energetic way, he rose from his chair, and stood opposite to her. "I cannot bring myself to think that the fight should be given up."
"But there has been no fight."
"There ought to be a fight, Miss Mackenzie; I know that there ought.
I believe I"m right in supposing, if all this is allowed to go by the board as it is going, that you won"t have, so to say, anything of your own."
"I shall have to earn my bread like other people; and, indeed, I am endeavouring now to put myself in the way of doing so."
"I"ll tell you how you shall earn it. Come and be my wife. I think we"ve got a turn for good up at the business. Come and be my wife.
That"s honest, any way."
"You are honest," said she, with a tear in her eye.
"I am honest now," said he, "though I was not honest to you once;"
and I think there was a tear in his eye also.
"If you mean about that money that you have borrowed, I am very glad of it--very glad of it. It will be something for them in Gower Street."
"Miss Mackenzie, as long as I have a hand to help myself with, they shall have that at least. But now, about this other thing. Whether there"s nothing to come or anything, I"ll be true to my offer. I"ll fight for it, if there"s to be a fight, and I"ll let it go if there"s to be no fight. But whether one way or whether the other, there shall be a home for you when you say the word. Say it now. Will you be my wife?"
"I cannot say that word, Mr Rubb."
"And why not?"
"I cannot say it; indeed, I cannot."
"Is it Mr Ball that prevents you?"
"Do not ask me questions like that. Indeed, indeed, indeed, I cannot do as you ask me."
"You despise me, like enough, because I am only a tradesman?"
"What am I myself, that I should despise any man? No, Mr Rubb, I am thankful and grateful to you; but it cannot be."
Then he took up his hat, and, turning away from her without any word of adieu, made his way out of the house.
"He really do seem a nice man, Miss," said Mrs Buggins. "I wonder you wouldn"t have him liefer than go into one of them hospitals."
Whether Miss Mackenzie had any remnant left of another hope, or whether all such hope had gone, we need not perhaps inquire accurately. Whatever might be the state of her mind on that score, she was doing her best to carry out her purpose with reference to the plan of nursing; and as she could not now apply to her cousin, she had written to Mr Slow upon the subject.
Late in November yet another gentleman came to see her, but when he came she was unfortunately out. She had gone up to the house in Gower Street, and had there been so cross-questioned by the indefatigable Miss Colza that she had felt herself compelled to tell her sister-in-law that she could not again come there as long as Miss Colza was one of the family. It was manifest to her that these questions had been put on behalf of Mr Maguire, and she had therefore felt more indignant than she would have been had they originated in the impertinent curiosity of the woman herself. She also informed Mrs Mackenzie that, in obedience to instructions from Mr Slow, she intended to postpone her purpose with reference to the hospital till some time early in the next year. Mr Slow had sent a clerk to her to explain that till that time such amicable arrangement as that to which he looked forward to make could not be completed. On her return from this visit to Gower Street she found the card,--simply the card,--of her cousin, John Ball.
Why had she gone out? Why had she not remained a fixture in the house, seeing that it had always been possible that he should come?
But why! oh, why! had he treated her in this way, leaving his card at her home, as though that would comfort her in her grievous desolation? It would have been far better that he should have left there no intimation of his coming. She took the card, and in her anger threw it from her into the fire.
But yet she waited for him to come again. Not once during the next ten days, excepting on the Sunday, did she go out of the house during the hours that her cousin would be in London. Very sad and monotonous was her life, pa.s.sed alone in her own bedroom. And it was the more sad, because Mrs Buggins somewhat resented the manner in which her husband was treated. Mrs Buggins was still attentive, but she made little speeches about Buggins" respectability, and Margaret felt that her presence in the house was an annoyance.
At last, at the end of the ten days, John Ball came again, and Margaret, with a fluttering heart, descended to meet him in the empty parlour.
She was the first to speak. As she had come downstairs, she had made up her mind to tell him openly what were her thoughts.
"I had hoped to have seen you before this, John," she said, as she gave him her hand.
"I did call before. Did you not get my card?"
"Oh, yes; I got your card. But I had expected to see you before that.
The kind of life that I am leading here is very sad, and cannot be long continued."
"I would have had you remain at the Cedars, Margaret; but you would not be counselled by me."
"No; not in that, John."
"I only mention it now to excuse myself. But you are not to suppose that I am not anxious about you, because I have not seen you. I have been with Mr Slow constantly. These law questions are always very tedious in being settled."
"But I want nothing for myself."
"It behoves Mr Slow, for that very reason, to be the more anxious on your behalf; and, if you will believe me, Margaret, I am quite as anxious as he is. If you had remained with us, I could have discussed the matter with you from day to day; but, of course, I cannot do so while you are here."
As he was talking in this way, everything with reference to their past intercourse came across her mind. She could not tell him that she had been anxious to see him, not with reference to the money, but that he might tell her that he did not find her guilty on that charge which her aunt had brought against her concerning Mr Maguire.
She did not want a.s.surances of solicitude as to her future means of maintenance. She cared little or nothing about her future maintenance, if she could not get from him one kind word with reference to the past. But he went on talking to her about Mr Slow, and the interest, and the property, and the law, till, at last, in her anger, she told him that she did not care to hear further about it, till she should be told at last what she was to do.
"As I have got nothing of my own," she said, "I want to be earning my bread, and I think that the delay is cruel."
"And do you think," said he, "that the delay is not cruel to me also?"
She thought that he alluded to the fact that he could not yet obtain possession of the income for his own purposes.
"You may have it all at once, for me," she said.
"Have all what?" he replied. "Margaret, I think you fail to see the difficulties of my position. In the first place, my father is on his deathbed!"
"Oh, John, I am sorry for that."
"And, then, my mother is very bitter about all this. And how can I, at such a time, tell her that her opinion is to go for nothing? I am bound to think of my own children, and cannot abandon my claim to the property."
"No one wants you to abandon it. At least, I do not."
"What am I to do, then? This Mr Maguire is making charges against me."
"Oh, John!"
"He is saying that I am robbing you, and trying to cover the robbery by marrying you. Both my own lawyer, and Mr Slow, have told me that a plain statement of the whole case must be prepared, so that any one who cares to inquire may learn the whole truth, before I can venture to do anything which might otherwise compromise my character. You do not think of all this, Margaret, when you are angry with me."
Margaret, hanging down her head, confessed that she had not thought of it.