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
"I was as cool as you were when you gave me Blent."
"You're cool enough now, anyhow," he admitted, in admiration of her
parry.
"Quite, thanks." The hand behind her head trembled sorely. His eyes were
on her, and a confusion threatened to overwhelm the composure of which
she boasted.
"I gave you Blent because it was yours."
"What I offered you is mine."
"By God, no. Never yours to give till you've lost it!"
With an effort she kept her pose. His words hummed through her head.
"Did you say that to Janie Iver?" she mustered coolness to ask him
mockingly.
He thrust away the taunt with a motion of his hand; one of
Gainsborough's gimcracks fell smashed on the floor. Cecily laughed, glad
of the excuse to seem at her ease.
"Hang the thing! If you'd loved me, you'd have been ashamed to do it."
"I was ashamed without loving you, Cousin Harry."
"Oh, do drop 'Cousin' Harry!"
"Well, I proposed to. But you wouldn't." Her only refuge now was in
quips and verbal victories. They served her well, for Harry, less master
of himself than usual, was hindered and tripped up by them. "Still, if
we ever meet again, I'll say 'Harry' if you like."
"Of course we shall meet again." She surprised that out of him.
"It'll be so awkward for me now," she laughed lightly. But her mirth
broke off suddenly as he came closer and stood over her.
"I could hate you for coming to me with that offer," he said.
Almost hating herself now, yet sorely wounded that he should think of
hating her, she answered him in a fury.
"Well then, shouldn't I hate you for giving me Blent? That was worse.
You could refuse, I couldn't. I have it, I have to keep it." In her
excitement she rose and faced him. "And because of you I can't be
happy!" she cried resentfully.
"I see! I ought to have drowned myself, instead of merely going away?
Oh, I know I owe the world at large apologies for my existence, and you
in particular, of course! Unfortunately, though, I intend to go on
existing; I even intend to live a life of my own--not the life of a
hanger-on--if you'll kindly allow me."
"Would any other man in the world talk like this after----?"
"Any man who had the sense to see what you'd done. I'm bound to be a
nuisance to you anyhow. I should be least of a nuisance as your husband!
That was it. Oh, I'm past astonishment at you."
His words sounded savage, but it was not their fierceness that banished
her mirth. It was the new light they threw on that impulse of hers. She
could only fall back on her old recrimination.
"When you gave me Blent----"
"Hold your tongue about Blent," he commanded imperiously. "If it were
mine again, and I came to you and said, 'You're on my conscience, you
fret me, you worry me. Marry me, and I shall be more comfortable!' What
then?"
"Why, it would be just like you to do it!" she cried in malicious
triumph.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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