Deaf women -- Fiction; Father figures -- Fiction; Painters -- Fiction; Psychological fiction; Young men -- Fiction
“When my brother heard the shocking news I had to tell, and saw the
scrawled paper she had left for him, he spoke and acted as if he was
out of his mind. It was only charitable, only fair to his previous
character, to believe, as I then believed, that distress had actually
driven him, for the time, out of his senses. He declared that he would
go away instantly and search for her, and set others seeking for her
too. He said, he even swore, that he would bring her back home the
moment he found her; that he would succor her in her misery, and accept
her penitence, and shelter her under his roof the same as ever, without
so much as giving a thought to the scandal and disgrace that her
infamous situation would inflict on her family. He even wrested
Scripture from its true meaning to support him in what he said, and in
what he was determined to do. And, worst of all, the moment he heard
how it was that I had discovered his daughter’s crime, he insisted that
Ellen Gough should be turned out of the house: he declared, in such
awful language as I had never believed it possible he could utter,
that she should not sleep under his roof that night. It was hopeless
to attempt to appease him. He put her out at the door with his own hand
that very day. She was an excellent and a regular workwoman, but sullen
and revengeful when her temper was once roused. By the next morning our
disgrace was known all over Dibbledean.
“There was only one more degradation now to be dreaded; and that it
sickened me to think of. I knew Joshua well enough to know that if he
found the lost wretch he was going in search of, he would absolutely
and certainly bring her home again. I had been born in our house at
Dibbledean; my mother before me had been born there; our family had
lived in the old place, honestly and reputably, without so much as
a breath of ill report ever breathing over them, for generations and
generations back. When I thought of this, and then thought of the
bare possibility that an abandoned woman might soon be admitted, and a
bastard child born, in the house where so many of my relations had lived
virtuously and died righteously, I resolved that the day when _she_ set
her foot on our threshold, should be the day when _I_ left my home and
my birth place for ever.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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