Doctor Thorne
quite as susceptible of the after feelings as young gentlemen are. Now Frank Gresham, was handsome, amiable, by no means a fool in intellect, excellent in heart; and he was, moreover,
n Frank Gresham told her that he loved her
ery boyishness of his manner, from thinking at all seriously on the subject. His 'will you, won't you - do you, don't you?' does not sound like the poetic raptures of a highly inspired lover. But, nevertheless,
or heard; but the absolute words and acts of one such scene did once come to the author's knowledge. The couple were by no means plebeian, or below the proper standard of high bearing and high breeding; they were a handsome pair, living among educat
g and short of it is this: here I
so as to allow a little salt water to run out of one ho
nonsense at all: come, Jane; here I am:
suppose I can
hich is it to be; t
ate, carrying on, at the same time, her engineering works o
entleman would have thought, had they ever thought about the matter at all, that this, the sweetest
possession of such a love, had the true possession been justly and honestly within her reach? What man could be more lovable than such a man as would grow from such a boy? And then, did she not love him - love him already, without waiting for any change? Did
in it, and would change his mind about woman half a score of times before he married. Then, too, though she did not like the Lady Arabella, she felt that she owed something, if not to her kindness, at least to her forbe
ld ever become Mrs Gresham because Frank had offered to make her so; but, nevertheless, she could not
ed by her birth to be the wife of such a one as Frank Gresham. They were in the habit of walking there together when he happened to be at home of a summer's evening. This was not often the case, for his hours of labour
ile, 'what do you think of th
for her -'I can't say I have thought much about
it, of course; and s
uld never get married if they had to tr
why you never go
ng of it too much. One
thinking about it,
uble; and perhaps save Miss Gresham too. If you hav
Moffat is a ma
point, no doubt, whe
; and what is worse, a
er. What is Mr Moffat's family to you, and me? Mr Moffat has
nd a rich man I suppose can buy anythin
fat has bought Miss Gresham. I have no doubt that they will suit each other very wel
,'said she, 'you know you are pretending to a great deal of worl
m
r the impropriety of discuss
say it wa
ussed. How is one to have an opinion if one does not
to be blown up,'
do be serio
hope Miss Gresham will be
it as much as I can hope what I don
ly hope without
l hope in this c
, my
, truly and really.
give any opinion founded o
you were a m
is quite as much
erhaps I may marry;- or at any
ative is certainly
not but speculate on the matter as though I were myself
you are not
ferent thing, I know. I suppose I might
sounds seemed to bear. She had failed in being able to bring her uncle to the point she wished by t
he should say so. But, Mary, to tell the truth, I hardly know at what you are driving. You
ooking up into his face, she turned her eye
is it?' and he took
on such matters, one cannot but apply it to things and people around one; and having applied my opinion to her, the next step naturally is to apply it to myself. W
e doctor moved on again, and she moved with him. He walked on very slowly without an
ly. 'A man raises a woman to his own standard
ds. She was determined, however, to come to the point, and after considering for a while how bes
ood a family as the G
rom that in which they are spoken of by the world at large, I may say that the Thornes are as good, or perhaps better, than the Gr
re of the s
athorne, and our friend the squi
gusta Gresham - are w
e boast that I am the same class with
u not know that you are not answering me fairly? You know what I m
ing his arm to hang loose, that she might hold it with both her
spared it to you
uld have done so; I
r now; I would, I would, I would if that were possible. What should I be but for you? What must I have been but for you
at she did know. Little as she had heard of her relatives in her early youth, few as had been the words which had fallen from her uncle in her hearing as to her parentage, she did know this, that she was the daughter of Henry Thorne, a brother of the doctor, and a son of the old prebendary. Trifling little things that had occurred, accidents which could not be prevented, had told her this; but not a word had
. She had not been there long before her uncle came up to her. He did not sit down, or even ta
was unfortunate in much, not in everything; but the world, which is very often stern in such matters, never judged her to have disgraced hersel
that not only could she not speak of her mother, but that she might hardly think of her with innocence; and to mitigate such sorrow a
s not willing so to do this as to bring himself in any manner into familiar contact with the Scatcherds. He had boasted to himself that he, at any rate, was a gentleman; and that she, if she were to live in his house, sit at his table, and share his hearth, must be a lady. He would tell no lie about her; he would not to any one make her out to be aught other or aught better than she was; people would talk about her of course, only let them not ta
spread, had faded down into utter ignorance. At the end of these twelve years, Dr Thorne had announced, that a young niece, a child of a brother long since dead, was coming to live with him. As he had contemplated, no one spoke to him; but some people did no doubt talk among themselves. Whether or not the exact truth was surmised by any, it m
ld you,' said the doctor, 'partly that you may know that the child has no right to mix with your children if
children as though she were of the same brood. Indeed, the squire had always been fond of Mary, had personally noticed her, and, in the affair
nking; till now, when she was one-and-twenty years of age, his niece came to him, ask
ll, he had been wrong about his niece? What if by endeavouring to place her in the position of a lady, he had falsely so placed
ofession an income sufficient for their joint wants; but he had not done as others do: he had no three or four thousand pounds in the Three per Cents., on which Mary might live in some comfort when he should die. Late in life he had insured his life for eight hundred pounds; and to that, and that o
, his one great sovereign comfort - his pride, his happiness, his glory? Was he to make her over, to make any portion of her over to others, if, by doing so, she might be able to share the wealth, as well as the coarse manners and uncouth society of her at present unkn
r him who had a fixed standing-ground in the world; it might be well for him to indulge in large views of a philosophy antagonistic to the world's practice; but had he a right to do it for his niece? What man would marry a girl so placed? For those am
st time, that she did not know where to rank herself? If such an appeal had been made to her, it must have come from young Frank Gresham. What, in such case, would it behove him to do? Should he pack up his all, his lancet-case, pestle
d forwards through his garden, medit