On the morning of the day when the
guests were to depart Mrs. Aylmer, having spent a
long and almost restless night, sent for Trevor to
her room. He entered unwillingly. He had
begun to dislike his tete-a-tete with Mrs. Aylmer
very much.
“Now, my dear boy, just sit
down and let us have a cosy chat,” said the
old lady.
Trevor stood near the open window.
“The day is so mild,”
he said, “that it is almost summer. Who
would suppose that we were close to December?”
“I have not sent for you, Maurice,
to talk of the weather. I have something much
more important to say.”
“And what is that?” he asked.
“You remember our last conversation in this
room?”
He knitted his brows.
“I remember it,” he answered.
“I want to carry it on now; we have come to
the second chapter.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Our last conversation was introductory.
Now the story opens. You have behaved very well,
quite as well as I could have expected, during the
time that Sharstons and Sir John Wallis have stayed
here.”
“I am glad you are pleased with
my behaviour; but in reality I did not behave well:
I mean according to your lights. I am just as
much a rebel as ever.”
“Maurice, my dear boy, try not
to talk nonsense; try to look a little ahead.
How old are you?”
“I shall be six-and-twenty early in the year.”
“Quite a boy,” said Mrs.
Aylmer, in a slightly contemptuous voice. “In
ten years you will be six-and-thirty, in twenty six-and-forty.
In twenty years from now you will much rejoice over
what what may not be quite to your taste
at the present moment, though why it should not be Maurice,
it is impossible, absolutely impossible, that you should
not love that sweet and beautiful girl.”
“Which girl do you mean?” said Trevor.
“Don’t prevaricate; you know perfectly
well to whom I allude.”
“Miss Sharston? She is
far too good, far too sweet to have her name bandied
between us. I decline to discuss her.”
“You must discuss her.
You can do so with all possible respect. Kitty
Sharston is to be your wife, Maurice.”
“She will never be my wife,”
he replied. His tone was so firm, he stood so
upright as he spoke, his eyes were fixed so sternly,
that just for a moment Mrs. Aylmer recognised that
she had met her match.
“You refuse to do what I wish?”
she said then slowly, “I who have done all for
you?”
“I refuse to do this. This
is the final straw of all. No wealth is worth
having at the price you offer. I will only marry
the woman I love. I respect, I admire, I reverence
Miss Sharston; but I do not love her, nor does she
love me. It is sacrilege to talk of a marriage
between us. If I offered she would refuse; it
is not to be thought of; besides ”
“Why do you stop? Go on.
It is just like your gratitude. How true are
the poet’s words: ‘Sharper than serpent’s
tooth!’ But what is your intention in the future?”
“Justice,” he replied.
“I cannot bear this. It troubles me more
than I can say. If you will not reinstate the
girl who ought to be your heiress in her right position,
I at least will do what I can for her. I will
offer her all I have.”
“You! you!” Mrs. Aylmer
now indeed turned pale. She rose from her seat
and came a step nearer the young man.
“You are mad; you must be mad,”
she said. “What does this mean?”
“It means that I intend to propose
for Florence Aylmer. Whether she will accept
me or not God only knows, but I love her.”
“You told me a short time ago
that you were not her lover.”
“I had not then looked into
my own heart. Now I find that I care for no one
else. Her image fills my mind day and night; I
am unhappy about her too unhappy to endure
this state of things any longer.”
“Do you think she will take
you, a penniless man? Do you think you are a
good match for her or for any girl?”
“That has nothing to do with
it. If she loves me she will accept all that
I can give her, and I can work for my living.”
“I will not listen to another
word of this. You have pained me inexpressibly.”
“You gave me time to decide,
and I have decided. If you will forgive Miss
Aylmer whatever she happened to do to displease you,
if you will make her joint heiress with me in your
estates, then we will both serve you and love you
most faithfully and most truly; but if you will not
give her back her true position I at least will offer
her all that a man can offer his heart,
his worship, and all the talent he possesses.
I can work for my wife, and before God I shall be
fifty times happier than in my present position.”
Mrs. Aylmer pointed to the door.
“I will not speak to you any
more,” she said. “This is disastrous,
disgraceful! Go! Leave my presence!”