Tristram of Blent: An Episode in the Story of an Ancient HouseHope, Anthony
General
Tristram of Blent: An Episode in the Story of an Ancient House
Hope, Anthony
England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
"You must see that you're the very----" She broke off abruptly, and,
turning away, began to walk up and down.
"The very what?" asked Bob.
She turned and looked at him; she broke into a peevishly nervous laugh.
Anybody but Bob--really anybody but Bob--would have known! The laugh
encouraged him a little, which again it had no right to do.
"I thought you'd be in trouble, and like a bit of cheering up," he said
with a diplomatic air that was ludicrously obvious.
She considered a moment, taking another turn about the room to do it.
"What did Harry Tristram say to you?"
"Oh, he told me the whole thing. That--that he's chucked it up, you
know."
"I mean about me."
"He didn't say much about you. Just that it was all ended, you know."
"Did he think I should accept his withdrawal?"
"Yes, he seemed quite sure of it," answered Bob. "I had my doubts, but
he seemed quite sure of it." Apparently Bob considered his statement
reassuring and comforting.
"You had your doubts?"
"Yes. I thought perhaps----"
"You were wrong then, and Harry Tristram was right." She flung the words
at him in a fierce hostility. "Now he's not Lord Tristram any longer, I
don't want to marry him." She paused. "You believe he isn't, don't you?
There's no doubt?"
"I believe him all right. He's a fellow you can rely on."
"But it's all so strange. Why has he done it? Well, that doesn't matter.
At any rate he's right about me."
Bob sat stolidly in his chair. He did not know at all what to say, but
he did not mean to go. He had put no spoke in the Major's wheel yet,
and to do that was his contract with Harry Tristram, as well as his own
strong desire.
"Have you sympathized--or condoled--or triumphed--enough?" she asked;
she was fierce still.
"I don't know that I've had a chance of saying anything much," he
observed with some justice.
"I really don't see what you can have to say. What is there to say?"
"Well, there's just this to say--that I'm jolly glad of it."
She was startled by his blunt sincerity, so startled that she passed the
obvious chance of accusing him of cruelty toward Harry Tristram, and
thought only of how his words touched herself.
"Glad of it! Oh, if you knew how it makes me feel about myself! But you
don't, or you'd never be here now."
"Why shouldn't I be here now?" He spoke slowly, as though he were
himself searching for any sound reason.
"Oh, it's----" The power of explanation failed her. People who will not
see obvious things sometimes hold a very strong position. Janie began to
feel rather helpless. "Do go. I don't want anybody to come and find you
here." She had turned from command to entreaty.
"I'm jolly glad," he resumed, settling himself back in his chair, "that
the business between you and Harry Tristram's all over. It ought never
to have gone so far, you know."
"Are you out of your mind to-day, Bob?"
"And now, what about the Major, Miss Janie?"
She flushed red in indignation, perhaps in guilt too. "How dare you?
You've no business to----"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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