The House on the Moor, v. 2/3Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The House on the Moor, v. 2/3
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Fiction
"But, to begin at the beginning, I got a very strange account of the
family from the man who drove me to Marchmain; then I was startled by
the sight of the house; then, though greatly re-assured by the
appearance of Susan, I was overcast again by seeing the cloud that came
over her at the mention of her father. He never appeared to receive me,
but sent for me to his study, where he made the request that I would
keep his secret from his children in the most absolute terms, not
without reproaches against me, and against--God forgive him!--my poor
sister, because I knew it, which I confess rather exasperated me. I
resolved at once not to stay in the house, nor to see him again, and
accordingly came down here to this little inn--very poor
quarters--where I have been for three days. Horace accompanied me here,
and on the way broke out into rather extravagant protestations of his
wish to leave home, and bitter complaints against his father. You may
suppose I was confused enough, longing to let the poor lad know the
secret which could have explained all to him, and hindered by my
promise. I detest mystery--always abjure it, Ned, as you value my
approbation; nothing can be honest that has to be concealed. This
miserable, mistaken idea of your uncle's has gone far, I am afraid, to
ruin the moral nature of his son. There is a shocking unnatural enmity
between the two, which cuts me to the heart every time I think of it. Of
course, Horace has no clue whatever to the secret of his father's
conduct. He thinks it springs out of mere caprice and cruelty, and
naturally fumes against it. This is all very dismal to look at, though I
suppose, by dint of usage, it does not seem so unnatural to them as it
does to a stranger. Horace himself, I am sorry to say, does not quite
satisfy me; with such an upbringing, poor fellow, who can wonder at it?
He is very clever, but much occupied with himself, and does not seem to
have the honest, spontaneous wishes and ambition of a young man. There
is a look of craft about him which grieves me; and I fear he has got
into indifferent company, according to his own avowal, and declares to
me he despises them, which, in my opinion, does not mend the matter.
Altogether, I am very much puzzled in my own mind about him; he is very
unlike the young men I have been accustomed to meet with--and that with
my experience, in thirty years of active life, is a good deal to say.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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