The Evil Eye; Or, The Black Spector: The Works of William Carleton, Volume OneCarleton, William
General
The Evil Eye; Or, The Black Spector: The Works of William Carleton, Volume One
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“Harry has paid a visit to these neighbors of ours,” said she, “these
Goodwins, and I think, now that he has come home, it would be only
prudent on our part to renew the intimacy that was between us. Not that
I like, or ever will like, a bone in one of their bodies; but it's only
right that we should foil them at their own weapons, and try to get back
the property into the hands of one of the family at least, if we can,
and so prevent it from going to strangers. I am determined to pay them a
friendly visit tomorrow.”
“A friendly visit!” exclaimed her husband, with an expression of
surprise and indignation on his countenance which he could not conceal;
“how can you say a friendly visit, after having just told us that you
neither like them, nor ever will like them? not that it was at all
necessary for you to assure us of that. It is, however, the hypocrisy of
the thing on your part that startle? and disgusts me.”
“Call it prudence, if you please, Lindsay, or worldly wisdom, if you
like, after all the best kind of wisdom; and I only wish you had more of
it.”
“That makes no difference in life,” replied her husband, calmly, but
severely; “as it is, you have enough, and more than enough for the whole
family.”
“But has Harry any hopes of success with Alice Goodwin,” asked Charles,
“because everything depends on that?”
“If he had not, you foolish boy, do you think I would be the first to
break the ice by going to pay them a visit? The girl, I dare say, will
make a very good wife, or if she does not, the property will not be a
pound less in value on that account; that's one comfort.”
“And is it upon this hollow and treacherous principle that you are about
to pay them a friendly visit?” asked her husband, with ill-repressed
indignation.
“Lindsay,” she replied, sharply, “I perceive you are rife for a
quarrel now; but I beg to tell you, sir, that I will neither seek your
approbation nor regard your authority. I must manage these people after
my own fashion.”
“Harry,” said his step-father, turning abruptly, and with incredulous
surprise to him, “surely it is not possible that you are a party to such
a shameful imposture upon this excellent family?”
His brother Charles fastened his eyes upon him as if he would read his
heart.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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