The Adventures of Harry Richmond — CompleteMeredith, George
General
The Adventures of Harry Richmond — Complete
Meredith, George
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction
Julia shed tears at his cruelty, called him cruel, wicked, false to his
word. She wrote, but the letter did not please him, and his reply was
scornful. At prayers morning and evening, it was pitiful to observe her
glance of entreaty and her downfallen eyelashes. I guessed that in
Heriot's letters to her he wanted to make her confess something, which
she would not do. 'Now I write to him no more; let him know it, my
darling,' she said, and the consequence of Heriot's ungrateful
obstinacy was that we all beheld her, at the ceremony of the
consecration of the new church, place her hand on Mr. Boddy's arm and
allow him to lead her about. Heriot kept his eyes on them; his mouth
was sharp, and his arms stiff by his sides. I was the bearer of a long
letter to her that evening. She tore it to pieces without reading it.
Next day Heriot walked slowly past Mr. Boddy holding the portrait in
his hands. The usher called to him!
'What have you there, Heriot?'
My hero stared. 'Only a family portrait,' he answered, thrusting it
safe in his pocket and fixing his gaze on Julia's window.
'Permit me to look at it,' said Mr. Boddy.
'Permit me to decline to let you,' said Heriot.
'Look at me, sir,' cried Boddy.
'I prefer to look elsewhere, sir,' replied Heriot, and there was Julia
visible at her window.
'I asked you, sir, civilly,' quoth Boddy, 'for permission to look,—I
used the word intentionally; I say I asked you for permission...'
'No, you didn't,' Heriot retorted, quite cool; 'inferentially you did;
but you did not use the word permission.'
'And you turned upon me impudently,' pursued Boddy, whose colour was
thunder: 'you quibbled, sir; you prevaricated; you concealed what you
were carrying...'
'Am carrying,' Heriot corrected his tense; 'and mean to, in spite of
every Boddy,' he murmured audibly.
'Like a rascal detected in an act of felony,' roared Boddy, 'you
concealed it, sir...'
'Conceal it, sir.'
'And I demand, in obedience to my duty, that you instantly exhibit it
for my inspection, now, here, at once; no parleying; unbutton, or I
call Mr. Rippenger to compel you.'
I was standing close by my brave Heriot, rather trembling, studious of
his manfulness though I was. His left foot was firmly in advance, as he
said, just in the manner to start an usher furious:
'I concealed it, I conceal it; I was carrying it, I carry it: you
demand that I exhibit for your inspection what I mean no Boddy to see?
I have to assure you respectfully, sir, that family portraits are
sacred things with the sons of gentlemen. Here, Richie, off!'
I found the portrait in my hand, and Heriot between me and the usher,
in the attitude of a fellow keeping another out of his home at
prisoner's-base. He had spied Mr. Rippenger's head at the playground
gate. I had just time to see Heriot and the usher in collision before I
ran through the gate and into Julia's arms in her garden, whither the
dreadful prospect of an approaching catastrophe had attracted her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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