Courtship -- England -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
"My dear," he began, coming and sitting opposite to Ayala, with his
knees almost touching her, "I have got something very particular to
say to you." Ayala was at once much frightened. Her uncle had never
before spoken to her in this way,--had never in truth said a word to
her seriously. He had always been kind to her, making her presents,
and allowing himself to be kissed graciously morning and evening. He
had never scolded her, and, better than all, had never said a word to
her, one way or the other, about Tom. She had always liked her uncle,
because he had never caused her trouble when all the others in his
house had been troublesome to her. But now she was afraid of him. He
did not frown, but he looked very seriously at her, as he might look,
perhaps, when he was counting out all his millions in Lombard Street.
"I hope you think that I have always wished to be kind to you,
Ayala."
"I am sure you have, Uncle Tom."
"When you had come to us I always wished you to stay. I don't like
changes of this sort. I suppose you didn't hit it off with Augusta.
But she's gone now."
"Aunt Emmeline said something." That accusation, as to
"encouragement," so rankled in her heart, that when she looked back
at her grievances among the Tringles that always loomed the largest.
"I don't want to hear anything about it," said Sir Thomas. "Let
bygones be bygones. Your aunt, I am sure, never meant unkindly by
you. Now, I want you to listen to me."
"I will, Uncle Tom."
"Listen to me to the end, like a good girl."
"I will."
"Your Cousin Tom--." Ayala gave a visible shudder, and uttered an
audible groan, but as yet she did not say a word. Sir Thomas, having
seen the shudder, and heard the groan, did frown as he began again.
"Your Cousin Tom is most truly attached to you."
"Why won't he leave me alone, then?"
"Ayala, you promised to listen to me without speaking."
"I will, Uncle Tom. Only--"
"Listen to me, and then I will hear anything you have to say."
"I will," said Ayala, screwing up her lips, so that no words should
come out of them, let the provocation be what it might.
Sir Thomas began again. "Your Cousin Tom is most truly attached to
you. For some time I and his mother disapproved of this. We thought
you were both too young, and there were other reasons which I need
not now mention. But when I came to see how thoroughly he was in
earnest, how he put his heart into it, how the very fact that he
loved you had made a man of him; then how the fact that you would
not return his love unmanned him,--when I saw all that, I gave my
permission." Here he paused, almost as though expecting a word; but
Ayala gave an additional turn to the screw on her lips, and remained
quite silent. "Yes; we gave our permission,--I and your aunt. Of
course, our son's happiness is all in all to us; and I do believe
that you are so good that you would make him a good wife."
"But--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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