Dr Thorne - Anthony Trollope [276]
He drew his chair nearer to her, and took her by the hand. But she, disengaging hers, parted the hair from off his forehead, and kissed his brow. ‘Oh, Frank,’ she said, ‘I have been so proud of you, am still so proud of you. It will send me to my grave if I see you sink below your proper position. Not that it will be your fault. I am sure it will not be your fault. Only circumstanced as you are, you should be doubly, trebly careful. If your father had not –’
‘Do not speak against my father.’
‘No, Frank; I will not – no, I will not; not another word. And now, Frank –’
Before we go on we must say one word further as to Lady Arabella’s character. It will probably be said that she was a consummate hypocrite; but at the present moment she was not hypocritical. She did love her son; was anxious – very, very anxious for him; was proud of him, and almost admired the very obstinacy which so vexed her to her inmost soul. No grief would be to her so great as that of seeing him sink below what she conceived to be his position. She was as genuinely motherly, in wishing that he should marry money, as another woman might be in wishing to see her son a bishop; or as the Spartan matron, who preferred that her offspring should return on his shield, to hearing that he had come back whole in limb but tainted in honour. When Frank spoke of a profession, she instantly thought of what Lord de Courcy might do for him. If he would not marry money, he might, at any rate, be an attaché at an embassy. A profession – hard work, as a doctor, or as an engineer – would, according to her ideas, degrade him; cause him to sink below his proper position; but to dangle at a foreign court, to make small talk at the evening parties of a lady ambassadress, and occasionally, perhaps, to write demi-official notes containing demi-official tittle-tattle; this would be in proper accordance with the high honour of a Gresham of Greshamsbury.
We may not admire the direction taken by Lady Arabella’s energy on behalf of her son, but that energy was not hypocritical.
‘And now, Frank –’ She looked wistfully into his face as she addressed him, as though half afraid to go on, and begging that he would receive with complaisance whatever she found herself forced to say.
‘Well, mother?’
‘I was with Mary, yesterday.’
‘Yes, yes; what then? I know what your feelings are with regard to her.’
‘No, Frank; you wrong me. I have no feelings against her – none, indeed; none but this: that she is not fit to be your wife.’
‘I think her fit.’
‘Ah, yes; but how fit? Think of your position, Frank, and what means you have of keeping her. Think what you are. Your father’s only son; the heir to Greshamsbury. If Greshamsbury be ever again more than a name, it is you that must redeem it. Of all men living you are the least able to marry a girl like Mary Thorne.’
‘Mother, I will not sell myself for what you call my position.’
‘Who asks you? I do not ask you; nobody asks you. I do not want you to marry anyone. I did think once – but let that pass. You are now twenty-three. In ten years’ time you will still be a young man. I only ask you to wait. If you marry now, that is, marry such a girl as Mary Thorne –’
‘Such a girl! Where shall I find such another?’
‘I mean as regards money, Frank; you know I mean that; how are you to live? Where are you to go? And then, her birth. Oh, Frank! Frank!’
‘Birth! I hate such pretence. What was – but I won’t talk about it. Mother, I tell you my word is pledged, and on no account will I be induced to break it.’
‘Ah, that’s just it; that’s just the point. Now, Frank, listen to me. Pray listen to me patiently for one minute. I do not ask much of you.’
Frank promised that he would listen patiently; but he looked anything but patient as he said so.
‘I have seen Mary, as it was certainly my duty to do. You cannot be angry with me for that.’
‘Who said