Ayala's Angel [179]
of Gertrude Tringle and Imogene Docimer.
On the Sunday morning he was not up early, nor did he go to church. The contumacious gentleman was a friend of his, whom he knew that no arguments would induce to apologise. He believed also that gentleman No. 3 might have been seen playing cards with gentleman No. 2 -- so that there was no valid excuse for the banging of the door. He was much exercised by the points to be decided, so that when he got into a cab to be taken to Mrs Docimer's house he had hardly come to any other conclusion than that one which had arisen to him from a comparison between the two young ladies. Imogene was nearly perfect, and Gertrude was as nearly the reverse as a young lady could be with the proper number of eyes in her head and a nose between them. The style of her letter was abominable to him. "Very ill indeed -- as you will understand, if you ever really loved me!" There was a mawkish clap-trap about it which thoroughly disgusted him. Everything from Imogene was straightforward and downright whether it were love or whether it were anger. But then to be settled with an income of L#3,000 a year would relieve him from such a load of care!
"And so Tringle pere does not see the advantage of such a son-in-law," said Imogene, after the first greetings were over between them. The greetings had been very simple -- just a touch of the hand, just a civil word -- civil, but not in the least tender, just an inclination of the head, and then two seats occupied with all the rug between them.
"Yes, indeed!" said Frank. "The man is a fool, because he will probably get somebody who will behave less well to his daughter, and make a worse use of his money.
"Just so. One can only be astonished at his folly. Is there no hope left?"
"A glimmer there is."
"Oh, indeed!"
"I got a letter last night from my lady-love, in which she tells me that she is very ill, and that her sickness is working upon her father's bowels."
"Frank!"
"It is the proper language -- working upon her father's bowels of compassion. Fathers always have bowels of compassion at last." "You will return then, of course?"
"What do you say?"
"As for myself -- or as for you?"
"As a discreet and trusty counsellor. To me you have always been a trusty counsellor."
"Then I should put a few things into a bag, go down to Merle Park, and declare that, in spite of all the edicts that ever came from a father's mouth, you cannot absent yourself while you know that your Gertrude is ill."
"And so prepare a new cousin for you to press to your bosom." "If you can endure her for always, why should not I for an hour or two, now and again?"
"Why not, indeed? In fact, Imogene, this enduring, and not enduring -- even this living, and not living -- is, after all, but an affair of the imagination. Who can tell but that, as years roll on, she may be better looking even than you?"
"Certainly."
"And have as much to say for herself?"
"A great deal more that is worth hearing."
"And behave herself as a mother of a family with quite as much propriety?"
"In all that I do not doubt that she would be my superior."
"More obedient I am sure she would be."
"Or she would be very disobedient."
"And then she can provide me and my children with ample comforts." "Which I take it is the real purpose for which a wife should be married."
"Therefore," said he -- and then he stopped.
"And therefore there should be no doubt."
"Though I hate her", he said, clenching his fist with violence as he spoke, "with every fibre of my heart -- still you think there should be no doubt?"
"That, Frank, is violent language -- and foolish."
"And though I love you so intensely that whenever I see her the memory of you becomes an agony to me."
"Such language is only more violent and more foolish."
"Surely not, if I have made up my mind at last, that I never will willingly see Miss Tringle again. Here he got up, and walking across the rug, stood over her, and waited as though expecting some word from her.
On the Sunday morning he was not up early, nor did he go to church. The contumacious gentleman was a friend of his, whom he knew that no arguments would induce to apologise. He believed also that gentleman No. 3 might have been seen playing cards with gentleman No. 2 -- so that there was no valid excuse for the banging of the door. He was much exercised by the points to be decided, so that when he got into a cab to be taken to Mrs Docimer's house he had hardly come to any other conclusion than that one which had arisen to him from a comparison between the two young ladies. Imogene was nearly perfect, and Gertrude was as nearly the reverse as a young lady could be with the proper number of eyes in her head and a nose between them. The style of her letter was abominable to him. "Very ill indeed -- as you will understand, if you ever really loved me!" There was a mawkish clap-trap about it which thoroughly disgusted him. Everything from Imogene was straightforward and downright whether it were love or whether it were anger. But then to be settled with an income of L#3,000 a year would relieve him from such a load of care!
"And so Tringle pere does not see the advantage of such a son-in-law," said Imogene, after the first greetings were over between them. The greetings had been very simple -- just a touch of the hand, just a civil word -- civil, but not in the least tender, just an inclination of the head, and then two seats occupied with all the rug between them.
"Yes, indeed!" said Frank. "The man is a fool, because he will probably get somebody who will behave less well to his daughter, and make a worse use of his money.
"Just so. One can only be astonished at his folly. Is there no hope left?"
"A glimmer there is."
"Oh, indeed!"
"I got a letter last night from my lady-love, in which she tells me that she is very ill, and that her sickness is working upon her father's bowels."
"Frank!"
"It is the proper language -- working upon her father's bowels of compassion. Fathers always have bowels of compassion at last." "You will return then, of course?"
"What do you say?"
"As for myself -- or as for you?"
"As a discreet and trusty counsellor. To me you have always been a trusty counsellor."
"Then I should put a few things into a bag, go down to Merle Park, and declare that, in spite of all the edicts that ever came from a father's mouth, you cannot absent yourself while you know that your Gertrude is ill."
"And so prepare a new cousin for you to press to your bosom." "If you can endure her for always, why should not I for an hour or two, now and again?"
"Why not, indeed? In fact, Imogene, this enduring, and not enduring -- even this living, and not living -- is, after all, but an affair of the imagination. Who can tell but that, as years roll on, she may be better looking even than you?"
"Certainly."
"And have as much to say for herself?"
"A great deal more that is worth hearing."
"And behave herself as a mother of a family with quite as much propriety?"
"In all that I do not doubt that she would be my superior."
"More obedient I am sure she would be."
"Or she would be very disobedient."
"And then she can provide me and my children with ample comforts." "Which I take it is the real purpose for which a wife should be married."
"Therefore," said he -- and then he stopped.
"And therefore there should be no doubt."
"Though I hate her", he said, clenching his fist with violence as he spoke, "with every fibre of my heart -- still you think there should be no doubt?"
"That, Frank, is violent language -- and foolish."
"And though I love you so intensely that whenever I see her the memory of you becomes an agony to me."
"Such language is only more violent and more foolish."
"Surely not, if I have made up my mind at last, that I never will willingly see Miss Tringle again. Here he got up, and walking across the rug, stood over her, and waited as though expecting some word from her.