Dynevor Terrace; Or, The Clue of Life — Volume 1Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
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Dynevor Terrace; Or, The Clue of Life — Volume 1
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Cousins -- Fiction; Domestic fiction; English fiction -- 19th century; Upper class -- England -- Fiction
'He comes to tell you! Nay, never say he has no resolution! Such
debts as those, what are they compared with other young men's, of which
they do not tell their fathers?'
'If he were like other youths, I should know how to deal with him. But
you agree with me, he is not fit to have a larger sum in his hands.'
'Perhaps not; he is too impulsive and inexperienced. If you were to
ask me how to make it conduce to his happiness, I should say, lay out
more on the estate, so as to employ more men, and make improvements in
which he would take interest.'
'I cannot make him care for the estate. Last winter, when he came of
age, I tried to explain the state of affairs; but he was utterly
indifferent--would not trouble himself to understand the papers he was
to sign, and made me quite ashamed of such an exhibition before
Richardson.'
'I wish I could defend him! And yet--you will think me unreasonable,
but I do believe that if he had thought the welfare of others was
concerned, he would have attended more.'
'Umph!'
'I am not sure that it is not his good qualities that make him so hard
to deal with. The want of selfishness and vanity seem to take away two
common springs of action, but I do believe that patience will bring out
something much higher when you have found the way to reach it.'
'That I certainly have not, if it be there!'
'To cultivate his sympathies with you,' said Mrs. Ponsonby, hesitating,
and not venturing to look into his face.
'Enough, Mary,' he said, hastily. You said the like to me once before.'
'But,' said Mrs. Ponsonby, firmly, '_here_ there is a foundation to
work on. There are affections that only need to be drawn out to make
you happy, and him--not, perhaps, what you now wish, but better than
you wish.'
His face had become hard as he answered, 'Thank you, Mary; you have
always meant the best. You have always been kind to me, and to all
belonging to me.'
Her heart ached for the father and son, understanding each other so
little, and paining each other so much, and she feared that the Earl's
mind had been too much cramped, and his feelings too much chilled, for
such softening on his part as could alone, as it seemed, prevent Louis
from being estranged, and left to his naturally fickle and indolent
disposition.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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