Piccadilly: A Fragment of Contemporary BiographyOliphant, Laurence
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Piccadilly: A Fragment of Contemporary Biography
Oliphant, Laurence
Piccadilly (London, England) -- Fiction
It was no business of mine, after the explanation which I had had with
Lady Ursula upon the subject of our rumoured engagement, to revert to
the topic with any of her family. If Lady Broadhem was dissatisfied with
the position of affairs, I supposed that I should hear of it quite soon
enough; my only anxiety was about Ursula herself. I trembled for her
domestic peace and comfort. Broadhem's few words about his sister's
happiness under the altered circumstances were very significant, and I
determined therefore to get her ladyship as much in my power as
possible, by exercising to its utmost extent the right which I had wrung
from her of a full control over her pecuniary affairs. If my wealth did
not enable me to purchase my own happiness, it should at least enable me
to secure the happiness of her whom I loved best in the world. I had
never wavered in my resolution somehow or other to effect this great
end, but my plans must of necessity undergo some change now that Lady
Broadhem's eyes were opened to the real state of the case. I was much
puzzled what to do about Grandon. Sometimes I felt a yearning to take
him fully into my confidence and consult with him upon that delicate
topic which touched us both so nearly; but though he was kind and
considerate as ever, there was a constraint about our intercourse of
which we were both painfully conscious. We avoided all allusion to the
Broadhems, and he never called in Grosvenor Square, nor, so far as I
know, had met Lady Ursula since the memorable dinner which had
terminated so disagreeably for us all. Under the circumstances, I had
also thought the wisest, and for many reasons the most proper, course
for me was, to abstain from going there until I should hear from Lady
Broadhem; and although I was anxious to consult her upon many business
matters, I preferred letting them remain in abeyance to courting an
interview which I dreaded. At last I began to think Lady Broadhem's
silence rather ominous. I felt that a thunder-cloud had been gathering
for some time past, and that the sooner it burst the better. I
occasionally found myself walking past the door of the house, and
wondering what was going on inside it. I felt that there would be
something undignified about pumping Broadhem, and yet every time I met
him I experienced an irresistible desire to do so.
At last one day he volunteered a remark, from which I gathered that he
was as anxious for information as I was. "Have you seen my mother
lately?" he began.
"Not for weeks."
"Do you know she is carrying on a lot of things just the same as ever?"
"I don't think that possible," I said; "she could do nothing without my
knowledge."
"She is, though," said Broadhem; "I can't quite make out what is going
on, because, you know, she never condescends to discuss her affairs with
any of us; but I feel certain there is some new scheme afloat."
"Is she kind to your sister?" I asked.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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