Griffith Gaunt; or, Jealousy: Volumes 1 to 3 (of 3)Reade, Charles
General
Griffith Gaunt; or, Jealousy: Volumes 1 to 3 (of 3)
Reade, Charles
Bigamy -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century
An invalid's bed was sent to her by the doctor at her own request, and
placed on a small bed-stead. She lay on this at night, and on a sofa by
day.
Griffith was now as good as a widower; and Caroline Ryder improved the
opportunity. She threw herself constantly in his way, all smiles, small
talk, and geniality.
Like many healthy men, your sickness wearied him if it lasted over two
days; and, whenever he came out, chilled and discontented, from his
invalid wife, there was a fine, buoyant, healthy young woman, ready to
chat with him, and brimming over with undisguised admiration.
True, she was only a servant; a servant to the core. But she had
been always about ladies, and could wear their surface as readily as
she could their gowns. Moreover, Griffith himself lacked dignity and
reserve: he would talk to anybody.
The two women began to fill the relative situations of clouds, and
sunshine.
But, ere this had lasted long, the enticing contact with the object of
her lawless fancy inflamed Ryder, and made her so impatient that she
struck her long meditated blow a little prematurely.
The passage outside Mrs. Gaunt's door had a large window: and one
day, while Griffith was with his wife, Ryder composed herself on the
window-seat in a forlorn attitude, too striking and unlike her usual
gay demeanour to pass unnoticed.
Griffith came out and saw this drooping disconsolate figure. "Hallo!"
said he, "what is wrong with you?" a little fretfully.
A deep sigh was the only response.
"Had words with your sweetheart?"
"You know I have no sweetheart, sir."
The good-natured Squire made an attempt or two to console her and
find out what was the matter; but he could get nothing out of her but
monosyllables and sighs. At last the crocodile contrived to cry. And
having thus secured his pity, she said----
"There, never heed me. I'm a foolish woman; I can't bear to see my dear
master so abused."
"What d'ye mean?" said Griffith, sternly. Her very first shaft wounded
his peace of mind.
"Oh, no matter! why should I be your friend and my own enemy? If I
tell you I shall lose my place."
"Nonsense, girl, you shall never lose your place while I am here."
"Well, I hope not, sir; for I am very happy here; too happy methinks,
when you speak kindly to me. Take no notice of what I said. 'Tis best
to be blind at times."
The simple Squire did not see that this artful creature was playing
the stale game of her sex: stimulating his curiosity under pretence of
putting him off. Ho began to fret with suspicion and curiosity, and
insisted on her speaking out.
"Ah! but I am so afraid you will hate me," said she; "and that will be
worse than losing my place."
Griffith stamped on the ground. "What is it?" said he, fiercely.
Ryder seemed frightened. "It is nothing," said she; then she paused,
and added, "but my folly. I can't bear to see you waste your feelings.
She is not so ill as you fancy."
"Do you mean to say that my wife is pretending?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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