Clergy -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
‘What do you mean, Maynard?’ said Caterina, with anger flashing from her
eyes. ‘Do you mean that I let him make love to me? What right have you to
think that of me? What do you mean that you saw yesterday evening?’
‘Do not be angry, Caterina. I don’t suspect you of doing wrong. I only
suspect that heartless puppy of behaving so as to keep awake feelings in
you that not only destroy your own peace of mind, but may lead to very
bad consequences with regard to others. I want to warn you that Miss
Assher has her eyes open on what passes between you and Captain Wybrow,
and I feel sure she is getting jealous of you. Pray be very careful,
Caterina, and try to behave with politeness and indifference to him. You
must see by this time that he is not worth the feeling you have given
him. He’s more disturbed at his pulse beating one too many in a minute,
than at all the misery he has caused you by his foolish trifling.’
‘You ought not to speak so of him, Maynard,’ said Caterina, passionately.
‘He is not what you think. He _did_ care for me; he _did_ love me; only
he wanted to do what his uncle wished.’
‘O to be sure! I know it is only from the most virtuous motives that he
does what is convenient to himself.’
Mr. Gilfil paused. He felt that he was getting irritated, and defeating
his own object. Presently he continued in a calm and affectionate tone.
‘I will say no more about what I think of him, Caterina. But whether he
loved you or not, his position now with Miss Assher is such that any love
you may cherish for him can bring nothing but misery. God knows, I don’t
expect you to leave off loving him at a moment’s notice. Time and
absence, and trying to do what is right, are the only cures. If it were
not that Sir Christopher and Lady Cheverel would be displeased and
puzzled at your wishing to leave home just now, I would beg you to pay a
visit to my sister. She and her husband are good creatures, and would
make their house a home to you. But I could not urge the thing just now
without giving a special reason; and what is most of all to be dreaded is
the raising of any suspicion in Sir Christopher’s mind of what has
happened in the past, or of your present feelings. You think so too,
don’t you, Tina?’
Mr. Gilfil paused again, but Caterina said nothing. She was looking away
from him, out of the window, and her eyes were filling with tears. He rose,
and, advancing a little towards her, held out his hand and said,--‘Forgive
me, Caterina, for intruding on your feelings in this way. I was so afraid
you might not be aware how Miss Assher watched you. Remember, I entreat
you, that the peace of the whole family depends on your power of governing
yourself. Only say you forgive me before I go.’
‘Dear, good Maynard,’ she said, stretching out her little hand, and
taking two of his large fingers in her grasp, while her tears flowed
fast; ‘I am very cross to you. But my heart is breaking. I don’t know
what I do. Good-bye.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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