Penelope : $b or, Love's labour lost. A novel. Volume 1 (of 3)Scargill, William Pitt
General
Penelope : $b or, Love's labour lost. A novel. Volume 1 (of 3)
Scargill, William Pitt
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
“I must first of all know for a certainty that the lady has, as you
say, jilted me, before I feel resentment. The correspondence was
interrupted, but that might be accidental. I must have an explanation,
then it will be time enough to be angry.”
“Well said, young man; I like your notions. But from what I hear,
both at Neverden and Smatterton, I fear that my young lady has been
fascinated by a sounding title. I hear a great deal that I cannot well
understand. If travellers see strange things abroad, they also hear
strange things when they come home again.”
Mr Primrose ceased speaking. Robert Darnley looked thoughtful; and
the parties looked at each other with some feeling of perplexity. The
father of Penelope, as being the most impetuous, though by far the
oldest of the two, after a short interval continued: “But what do you
propose to do? Or what must I say or do for you? Will you set off with
me to London tomorrow morning?”
Robert Darnley looked serious at that proposal, and replied: “So early
as tomorrow morning, under present circumstances, I think hardly
praticable. I do not know what would be the consequence to my poor
mother, if, after so long an absence from home, I should omit, just at
my return, to eat my Christmas dinner with her.”
“Well, I shall go to town,” said Mr Primrose, “and I will endeavour to
ascertain the truth of the matter; and if there has been any accidental
loss of letters, it will be a great pity to make that the cause of
breaking off an old acquaintance.”
“I simply wish it, sir, to be understood by Miss Primrose, that the
cessation of the correspondence has not been my act and deed. But that
I wrote three letters to her from Calcutta, to none of which I have
ever received any answer. If the acquaintance is to be discontinued, it
shall not rest on me, as arising from any fickleness on my part.”
“Good, sir, very good. You are a comparative stranger to me, it is
true; but I commend your spirit, that you are not hasty in resentment
before you know for what. And this I can tell you,” continued he, in
a more slow and serious tone, “such was my thorough confidence in the
good sense and discernment of my poor brother Greendale, that I cannot
but feel respect for any one whom he respected; and I know that he
respected you most sincerely.”
Thereupon the two gentlemen, with cordial grasp and tearful eyes, shook
each other by the hand most heartily, and parted very well pleased with
each other.
CHAPTER XIX.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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