England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Families -- Fiction; Stepmothers -- Fiction
“Ah! but you don’t know----” said Law. He was about to say “Polly,” but
stopped in time. “You don’t know what might be put into his head,
Lottie. He might be made to believe that to get rid of us would put all
right. If he got rid of us, don’t you see? he would want a woman in the
house; and if it was some one he liked himself, that would make herself
agreeable to him, and flatter him, and coddle him--that would please him
better,” said Law, with precocious knowledge of a man’s requirements,
“than you, who are always trying to keep things straight but not to
humour him, Lottie; or me--that am of no use at all.”
Lottie grew paler and paler during this explanation. She had never
humoured her father, it was true. She had made desperate exertions “to
keep things straight,” to recover the family credit, to pay the bills,
to keep regular hours; but, with the hardihood of youth, she had not
hesitated even to stint her father of a meal when it seemed to her
impetuous determination to be necessary, and she had not flattered him,
nor made his convenience the absolute rule of the household, as some
girls would have been wise enough to do. Lottie had reflected that he
kept the lion’s share of the family income to himself, and was quite
able to make up for any shortcomings in her bill of fare; and she had
carried out her regulations with a high hand, feeling no compulsion upon
her, no primary necessity to please her father. She perceived all this
at a glance while Law spoke, and immediately felt herself confronting
such a breach of all the ordinary usages of her life as made her shiver.
What might he not do? turn them out suddenly from his doors, out upon
the world, at any moment whenever he pleased. He had the power to do it
whenever he pleased, whatever seemed to him good. She drew a long
shivering breath, feeling as if all were over, as if already she heard
the door clanging and barred behind her, and was looking out penniless
and destitute upon the world, not knowing where to go. Was it possible
that such a fate was reserved for her? She became as white as her dress
with that sudden panic of the imagination which is more terrible than
any reality. Law was very anxious and alarmed also, but he had got over
the worst on the previous night, and it gave him a kind of half pleasure
to see how he had frightened Lottie; though, at the same time, the
effect of his communication upon her deepened his own conviction of the
danger about to overtake them. He leaned back in his easy-chair with a
certain solemn satisfaction, and stretched his long legs farther across
the room than ever.
“You see, Lottie,” he said, “it is what I have told you before; you
never would humour him. I don’t say that he’s not unreasonable, but he
might never perhaps have dropped among those sort of people if you had
laid yourself out to----”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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