At Cranston Hall the chronic atmosphere of gloom and constraint in
nowise tended to a clearance, and Time, so far from allaying General
Dorrien's resentment towards his eldest son, rather tended to heighten
it; as one or two incidents showed. Mr Curtis, the easy-going but
good-hearted vicar of Cranston, happening to be aware of the complete
ruin in which the exiled one had been involved through the bank failure,
took an opportunity of cautiously approaching this vindictive parent on
his behalf, but was met with such an angry rebuff as would have
constituted a mortal insult to a less good-natured man, but which the
easy-tempered vicar had suffered to pass over him unresented. It was
only his duty, he argued to his wife, to try and set things smooth if
possible; if not, well, he had done his best. The exile's other
advocate was Colonel Neville, who had thought Christmas a capital time
for putting in his word, but with like result; and the Colonel falling
far short of the parson in the quality of forbearance, something very
like a quarrel had taken place between the old friends and
companions-in-arms, and a coolness set in between their two houses.
Alone in this uncongenial home poor Nellie had a bad time of it. Her
father seldom addressed a word to her, or indeed, to anybody--for as his
moroseness increased he would shut himself up in his study for hours or
wander about by himself, going nowhere nor entertaining anybody, and
since he had discovered the meeting between herself and Eustace Ingelow
he had treated her as though very little better than her banished
brother. Between herself and her mother there had never been any
sympathy, and now there seemed to be less than any. One bright spot was
on her horizon--Christmas would come, and she would see Eustace again,
and to that she looked forward as to a forlorn hope. And Christmas had
come, and previously to it she had been sent away, as we have seen, a
procedure which, at any other time and under other circumstances, would
have met with her unbounded approval. But now?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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