Ayala's Angel [56]
things to the sinner. No doubt she was not anxious that the offer should be accepted, but not the less was it made graciously -- as she felt herself. In answer to this she had thrown back upon her the only hard word she had ever spoken to the girl! "You wouldn't be told anything of the kind, but you needn't come if you don't like it."
"Then I don't," said Ayala, nodding her head.
"But I did think that after all that has passed, and when I am trying to be kind to you, you would have made yourself more pleasant to me. I can only tell your uncle that you say you won't."
"Give my love to my uncle, and tell him that I am much obliged to him and that I know how good he is; but I can't -- because of Tom."
"Tom is too good for you," exclaimed Aunt Emmeline, who could not bear to have her son depreciated even by the girl whom she did not wish to marry him.
"I didn't say he wasn't," said Ayala, bursting into tears. "The Archbishop of Canterbury would be too good for me, but I don't want to marry him." Then she got up and ran out of the room in order that she might weep over her troubles in the privacy of her own chamber. She was thoroughly convinced that she was being ill-used. No one had a right to tell her that any man was too good for her unless she herself should make pretensions to the man. It was an insult to her even to connect her name with that of any man unless she had done something to connect it. In her own estimation her cousin Tom was infinitely beneath her -- worlds beneath her -- a denizen of an altogether inferior race, such as the Beast was to the Beauty! Not that Ayala had ever boasted to herself of her own face or form. It was not in that respect that she likened herself to the Beauty when she thought of Tom as the Beast. Her assumed superiority existed in certain intellectual or rather artistic and aesthetic gifts -- certain celestial gifts. But as she had boasted of them to no one, as she had never said that she and her cousin were poles asunder in their tastes, poles asunder in their feelings, poles asunder in their intelligence, was it not very, very cruel that she should be told, first that she encouraged him, and then that she was not good enough for him? Cinderella did not ask to have the Prince for her husband. When she had her own image of which no one could rob her, and was content with that, why should they treat her in this cruel way?
"I am afraid you are having a great deal of trouble with her," said Lady Tringle to Mrs Dosett.
"No, indeed. Of course she is romantic, which is very objectionable." "Quite detestable!" said Lady Tringle.
"But she has been brought up like that, so that it is not her fault. Now she endeavours to do her best."
"She is so upsetting."
"She is angry because her cousin persecutes her." "Persecutes her, indeed! Tom is in a position to ask any girl to be his wife. He can give her a home of her own, and a good income. She ought to be proud of the offer instead of speaking like that. But nobody wants her to have him."
"He wants it, I suppose."
"Just taken by her baby face -- that's all. It won't last, and she needn't think so. However, I've done my best to be kind, Mrs Dosett, and there's an end of it. If you please I'll ring the bell for the carriage. Goodbye." After that she swam out of the room and had herself carried back to Queen's Gate.
CHAPTER 14 FRANK HOUSTON
Three or four days afterwards Sir Thomas asked whether Ayala was to come to Glenbogie. "She positively refused," said his wife, "and was so rude and impertinent that I could not possibly have her now." Then Sir Thomas frowned and turned himself away, and said not a word further on that occasion.
There were many candidates for Glenbogie on this occasion. Among others there was Mr Frank Houston, whose candidature was not pressed by himself -- as could not well have been done -- but was enforced by Gertrude on his behalf. It was now July. Gertrude and Mr Houston had seen something of each other in Rome, as may be remembered, and since then had seen a good deal
"Then I don't," said Ayala, nodding her head.
"But I did think that after all that has passed, and when I am trying to be kind to you, you would have made yourself more pleasant to me. I can only tell your uncle that you say you won't."
"Give my love to my uncle, and tell him that I am much obliged to him and that I know how good he is; but I can't -- because of Tom."
"Tom is too good for you," exclaimed Aunt Emmeline, who could not bear to have her son depreciated even by the girl whom she did not wish to marry him.
"I didn't say he wasn't," said Ayala, bursting into tears. "The Archbishop of Canterbury would be too good for me, but I don't want to marry him." Then she got up and ran out of the room in order that she might weep over her troubles in the privacy of her own chamber. She was thoroughly convinced that she was being ill-used. No one had a right to tell her that any man was too good for her unless she herself should make pretensions to the man. It was an insult to her even to connect her name with that of any man unless she had done something to connect it. In her own estimation her cousin Tom was infinitely beneath her -- worlds beneath her -- a denizen of an altogether inferior race, such as the Beast was to the Beauty! Not that Ayala had ever boasted to herself of her own face or form. It was not in that respect that she likened herself to the Beauty when she thought of Tom as the Beast. Her assumed superiority existed in certain intellectual or rather artistic and aesthetic gifts -- certain celestial gifts. But as she had boasted of them to no one, as she had never said that she and her cousin were poles asunder in their tastes, poles asunder in their feelings, poles asunder in their intelligence, was it not very, very cruel that she should be told, first that she encouraged him, and then that she was not good enough for him? Cinderella did not ask to have the Prince for her husband. When she had her own image of which no one could rob her, and was content with that, why should they treat her in this cruel way?
"I am afraid you are having a great deal of trouble with her," said Lady Tringle to Mrs Dosett.
"No, indeed. Of course she is romantic, which is very objectionable." "Quite detestable!" said Lady Tringle.
"But she has been brought up like that, so that it is not her fault. Now she endeavours to do her best."
"She is so upsetting."
"She is angry because her cousin persecutes her." "Persecutes her, indeed! Tom is in a position to ask any girl to be his wife. He can give her a home of her own, and a good income. She ought to be proud of the offer instead of speaking like that. But nobody wants her to have him."
"He wants it, I suppose."
"Just taken by her baby face -- that's all. It won't last, and she needn't think so. However, I've done my best to be kind, Mrs Dosett, and there's an end of it. If you please I'll ring the bell for the carriage. Goodbye." After that she swam out of the room and had herself carried back to Queen's Gate.
CHAPTER 14 FRANK HOUSTON
Three or four days afterwards Sir Thomas asked whether Ayala was to come to Glenbogie. "She positively refused," said his wife, "and was so rude and impertinent that I could not possibly have her now." Then Sir Thomas frowned and turned himself away, and said not a word further on that occasion.
There were many candidates for Glenbogie on this occasion. Among others there was Mr Frank Houston, whose candidature was not pressed by himself -- as could not well have been done -- but was enforced by Gertrude on his behalf. It was now July. Gertrude and Mr Houston had seen something of each other in Rome, as may be remembered, and since then had seen a good deal