You can stop my allowance
to-morrow, if you like it. I had not as yet made up my mind to make
an offer to Miss Crawley, but I shall now do so to-morrow
morning."
This was very bad indeed, and the archdeacon was extremely
unhappy. He was by no means at heart a cruel man. He loved his
children dearly. If this disagreeable marriage were to take place,
he would doubtless do exactly as his wife had predicted. He would
not stop his son's income for a single quarter; and, though he went
on telling himself that he would stop it, he knew in his own heart
that any such severity was beyond his power. He was a generous man
in money matters,—having a dislike for poverty which was not
generous,—and for his own sake could not have endured to see a son
of his in want. But he was terribly anxious to exercise the power
which the use of the threat might give him. "Henry," he said, "you
are treating me badly, very badly. My anxiety has always been for
the welfare of my children. Do you think that Miss Crawley would be
a fitting sister-in-law for that dear girl upstairs?"
"Certainly I do, or for any other dear girl in the world;
excepting that Griselda, who is not clever, would hardly be able to
appreciate Miss Crawley, who is clever."
"Griselda not clever! Good heavens!" Then there was another
pause, and as the major said nothing, the father continued his
entreaties. "Pray, pray think of what my wishes are, and your
mother's. You are not committed as yet. Pray think of us while
there is time. I would rather double your income if I saw you marry
any one that we could name here."
"I have enough as it is, if I may only be allowed to know that
it will not be capriciously withdrawn." The archdeacon filled his
glass unconsciously, and sipped his wine, while he thought what
further he might say. Perhaps it might be better that he should say
nothing further at the present moment. The major, however, was
indiscreet, and pushed the question. "May I understand, sir, that
your threat is withdrawn, and that my income is secure?"
"What, if you marry this girl?"
"Yes sir; will my income be continued to me if I marry Miss
Crawley?"
"No, it will not." Then the father got up hastily, pushed the
decanter back angrily from his hand, and without saying another
word walked away into the drawing-room. That evening at the rectory
was very gloomy. The archdeacon now and again said a word or two to
his daughter, and his daughter answered him in monosyllables. The
major sat apart moodily, and spoke to no one. Mrs Grantly,
understanding well what had passed, knew that nothing could be done
at the present moment to restore family comfort; so she sat by the
fire and knitted. Exactly at ten they all went to bed.
"Dear Henry," said the mother to her son the next morning;
"think much of yourself, and of your child, and of us, before you
take any great step in life."
"I will, mother," said he. Then he went out and put on his
wrapper, and got into his dog-cart, and drove himself off to
Silverbridge. He had not spoken to his father since they were in
the dining-room on the previous evening. When he started, the
marchioness had not yet come downstairs; but at eleven she
breakfasted, and at twelve she also was taken away. Poor Mrs
Grantly had not had much comfort from her children's visits.
CHAPTER IV
The Clergyman's House at Hogglestock
Mrs Crawley had walked from Hogglestock to Silverbridge on the
occasion of her visit to Mr Walker, the attorney, and had been
kindly sent back by that gentleman in his wife's little open
carriage. The tidings she brought home with her to her husband were
very grievous. The magistrates would sit on the next Thursday,—it
was then Friday,—and Mr Crawley had better appear before them to
answer the charge made by Mr Soames. He would be served with a
summons, which he could obey of his own accord.
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