'You cannot therefore be surprised that Charlotte should be most anxious to do the best for us all.
Eleanor said that she was not at all surprised.
'And she has had a very difficult game to play, Mrs Bold--a very difficult game. Poor Madeline's unfortunate marriage and terrible accident, my mother's ill-health, my father's absence from England, and last, and worst perhaps my own roving, idle spirit have almost been too much for her. You cannot wonder if among all her cares one of the foremost is to see me settled in the world.'
Eleanor on this occasion expressed no acquiescence. She certainly supposed that a formal offer was to be made, and could not but think that so singular an exordium was never before made by a gentleman in a similar position. Mr Slope had annoyed her by the excess of his ardour. It was quiet clear that no such danger was to be feared from Mr Stanhope. Prudential motives alone actuated him. Not only was he about to make love because his sister told him, but he also took the precaution of explaining all this before he began. 'Twas thus, we may presume, that the matter presented itself to Mrs Bold.
When he had got so far, Bertie began poling in the gravel with a little cane which he carried. He still kept moving on, but very slowly, and his companion moved slowly by his side, not inclined to assist him in the task the performance of which appeared to be difficult to him.
'Knowing how fond she is of yourself, Mrs Bold, cannot you imagine what scheme should have occurred to her?'
'I can imagine no better scheme, Mr Stanhope, than the one Iproposed to you just now.'
'No,' said he, somewhat lack-a-daisically; 'I suppose that would be the best; but Charlotte thinks another plan might be joined with it.--She wants me to marry you.'
A thousand remembrances flashed across Eleanor's mind all in a moment--how Charlotte had talked about and praised her brother, how she had continually contrived to throw the two of them together, how she had encouraged all manner of little intimacies, how she had with singular cordiality persisted in treating Eleanor as one of the family. All this had been done to secure her comfortable income for the benefit of one of the family!
Such a feeling as this is very bitter when it first impresses itself on a young mind. To the old such plots and plans, such matured schemes for obtaining the goods of this world without the trouble of earning them, such long-headed attempts to convert 'tuum' into 'meum' are the ways of life to which they are accustomed. 'Tis thus that many live, and it therefore behoves all those who are well to do in the world be on their guard against those who are not. With them it is the success that disgusts, not the attempt. But Eleanor had not yet learnt to look on her money as a source of danger; she had not begun to regard herself as fair game to be hunted down by hungry gentlemen. She had enjoyed the society of the Stanhopes, she had greatly liked the cordiality of Charlotte, and had been happy in her new friends. Now she saw the cause of all that kindness, and her mind was opened to a new phase of human life.
'Miss Stanhope,' said she haughtily, 'has been contriving for me a great deal of honour, but she might have saved herself the trouble.
I an not sufficiently ambitious.'
'Pray don't be angry with her, Mrs Bold,' said he, 'or with me either.'
'Certainly not with you, Mr Stanhope,' said she, with considerable sarca** in her tone. 'Certainly not with you.'
'No,--nor with her,' said he imploringly.
'And why, may I ask you, Mr Stanhope, have you told me this singular story? For I may presume I may judge by your manner of telling it, that--that--that you and your sister are not exactly of one mind on the subject.'
'No, we are not.'
'And if so,' said Mrs Bold, who was now really angry with the unnecessary insult, which she thought had been offered to her, 'and if so, why has it been worth your while to tell me all this?'
'I did once think, Mrs Bold--that you--that you--'
The widow now again became entirely impassive, and would not lend the slightest assistance to her companion.
'I did once think that you perhaps might--might have been taught to regard me as more than a friend.'
'Never!,' said Mrs Bold, 'never. If I have ever allowed myself to do anything to encourage such an idea, I have been very much to blame,--very much to blame, indeed.'
'You never have,' said Bertie, who really had a good-natured anxiety to make what he said as little unpleasant as possible. 'You never have, and I have seen for some time that I had no chance; but my sister's hopes ran higher. I have not mistaken you, Mrs Bold, though perhaps she has.'
'Then why have you said all this to me?'
'Because I must not anger her.'
'And will not this anger her? Upon my word, Mr Stanhope, I do not understand the policy of your family. Oh, how I wish I was at home!' And as she expressed this wish, she could restrain herself no longer, but burst out into a flood of tears.
