A Knight of the Nineteenth CenturyRoe, Edward Payson
General
A Knight of the Nineteenth Century
Roe, Edward Payson
Fiction
After all, their feelings were only morbid developments of the instincts
of a refined womanly nature; but the trouble was, they had not the
womanly largeness of heart and affection which would have made them
equal to the emergency, however painful. Poor Mrs. Haldane was one of
those unfortunate people who always fall below the occasion; indeed, she
seldom realized it. Providence had now given her a chance to atone for
much of her former weakness and ruinous indulgence, but her little mind
was chiefly engrossed with the question, What can we do to smooth
matters over, and regain something like our old standing in society? As
the result of a long consultation with her daughters, it was concluded
that their best course was to go abroad. There they could venture out
with him who was the skeleton of the household, without having every one
turn and look after them with all kinds of comment upon their lips.
After several years in Europe they hoped society would be inclined to
forget and overlook the miserable record of the past few months.
That the young man himself would offer opposition to the plan, and
prefer to return to the scene of his disgrace, and to his sordid toil,
did not enter their minds.
In the enthusiasm of his new-born faith Haldane had determined to face
the public gaze, and hear Dr. Marks preach. It is true, he had greatly
dreaded the ordeal--and for his mother and sisters, far more than for
himself. When he began to intimate something of this feeling his mother
promptly motioned to the waitress to withdraw from the room. He then
soon learned that they had not attended church since Mrs. Haldane's
return from her memorable visit to Hillaton, and that they had no
intention of going to-day.
"The very thought makes me turn faint and sick," said the poor, weak
gentlewoman.
"We should feel like sinking through the floor of the aisle," chorused
the pallid young ladies.
Haldane ceased partaking of his breakfast at once, and leaned back in
his chair.
"Do you mean to say," he asked gloomily, "that my folly has turned this
house into a tomb, and that you will bury yourselves here indefinitely?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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