England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Sisters -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
"Well, well," she said a little dryly, "people do exaggerate. Matters
may not have gone quite so far, and I can only trust that he, Tom, has
not been sensible of what is in the air, though I have always understood
love, while it is said to be blind in one sense, is very sharp-sighted
in another. I believe every one else sees where the land lies. I saw it
myself so far as the gentleman was concerned--he could not keep his eyes
off her, though I was not five minutes in their company, and I was full
of my poor cousin Tom. I am sure I hope they may be happy," gulping down
the hope. "Tom would have wished it, quite apart from her having done
her duty by him, at the cost of some pain to herself, no doubt; while
Dr. Ironside has been more than kind, which nobody had any call to
expect. He must be a very fine young man, likely to win what he fancies.
Every woman is entitled to her choice, and most people would applaud
your sister's choice. The thing that puzzles me--you will forgive me for
mentioning it just this once, for where is the good of discussion
now?--is that as, I have been told, she did not meet Dr. Ironside till
she went to her London hospital, how, when she had got no opportunity of
contrasting the two men, when she had not even seen one of them, she
could yet be so set against Tom's proposal, knowing him to be the man he
is--was, alas! I should say. Why was she so very hard to poor Tom?"
"Oh, don't say that," besought Dora, in much agitation. "Don't bring
that forward at this moment."
But Miss Franklin, in the strength of her family affections, felt that
she owed it to the manes of Tom Robinson to express to the disdainful
damsel's sister a candid opinion that he had been summarily and severely
dealt with. "I was not in his confidence, but I could tell that
something was going to happen, and that he was very much cut up when it
all came to nothing."
"Oh, don't say that," repeated Dora, clasping her hands over her eyes,
and weeping behind them. "What good can it do except to inflict needless
torture?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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