England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
“Not at all a pity, my dear. A young man like him, who, both by position
and age must have had his experience confined to a very narrow circle,
ought not to set up his opinion against mine; he ought not to require
reasons from me, nor to need such explanation of my arguments (if I
condescend to argue), as going into relation of the circumstances on
which my arguments are based in my own mind, would be.”
“But, my lady, it might convince him,” I said, with perhaps injudicious
perseverance.
“And why should he be convinced?” she asked, with gentle inquiry in her
tone. “He has only to acquiesce. Though he is appointed by Mr. Croxton,
I am the lady of the manor, as he must know. But it is with Mr. Horner
that I must have to do about this unfortunate lad Gregson. I am afraid
there will be no method of making him forget his unlucky knowledge. His
poor brains will be intoxicated with the sense of his powers, without
any counterbalancing principles to guide him. Poor fellow! I am quite
afraid it will end in his being hanged!”
The next day Mr. Horner came to apologise and explain. He was
evidently--as I could tell from his voice, as he spoke to my lady in the
next room--extremely annoyed at her ladyship’s discovery of the
education he had been giving to this boy. My lady spoke with great
authority, and with reasonable grounds of complaint. Mr. Horner was well
acquainted with her thoughts on the subject, and had acted in defiance
of her wishes. He acknowledged as much, and should on no account have
done it, in any other instance, without her leave.
“Which I could never have granted you,” said my lady.
But this boy had extraordinary capabilities; would, in fact, have taught
himself much that was bad, if he not been rescued, and another direction
given to his powers. And in all Mr. Horner had done, he had had her
ladyship’s service in view. The business was getting almost beyond his
power, so many letters and so much account-keeping was required by the
complicated state in which things were.
Lady Ludlow felt what was coming--a reference to the mortgage for the
benefit of my lord’s Scottish estates, which, she was perfectly aware,
Mr. Horner considered as having been a most unwise proceeding--and she
hastened to observe:--
“All this may be very true, Mr. Horner, and I am sure I should be the
last person to wish you to over-work or distress yourself; but of that
we will talk another time. What I am now anxious to remedy is, if
possible, the state of this poor little Gregson’s mind. Would not hard
work in the fields be a wholesome and excellent way of enabling him to
forget?”
“I was in hopes, my lady, that you would have permitted me to bring him
up to act as a kind of clerk,” said Mr. Horner, jerking out his project
abruptly.
“A what?” asked my lady, in infinite surprise.
“A kind of--of assistant, in the way of copying letters and doing up
accounts. He is already an excellent penman and very quick at figures.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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