ost began to fear that she
would lack power to carry out her purpose.
"Indeed, it is not so, Mr Dale."
"Then what is it?"
"I know that if I attempt to tell you, you will be vexed, and will
contradict me."
"Vexed I shall be, probably."
"And yet I cannot help it. Indeed, I am endeavouring to do what is
right by you and by the children."
"Never mind me; your duty is to think of them."
"Of course it is; and in doing this they most cordially agree with
me."
In using such argument as that, Mrs Dale showed her weakness, and the
squire was not slow to take advantage of it. "Your duty is to them,"
he said; "but I do not mean by that that your duty is to let them act
in any way that may best please them for the moment. I can understand
that they should be run away with by some romantic nonsense, but I
cannot understand it of you."
"The truth is this, Mr Dale. You think that my children owe to you
that sort of obedience which is due to a parent, and as long as they
remain here, accepting from your hands so large a part of their daily
support, it is perhaps natural that you should think so. In this
unhappy affair about Bell--"
"I have never said anything of the kind," said the squire,
interrupting her.
"No; you have not said so. And I do not wish you to think that I
make any complaint. But I feel that it is so, and they feel it. And,
therefore, we have made up our minds to go away."
Mrs Dale, as she finished, was aware that she had not told her story
well, but she had acknowledged to herself that it was quite out of
her power to tell it as it should be told. Her main object was to
make her brother-in-law understand that she certainly would leave his
house, and to make him understand this with as little pain to himself
as possible. She did not in the least mind his thinking her foolish,
if only she could so carry her point as to be able to tell her
daughters on her return that the matter was settled. But the squire,
from his words and manners, seemed indisposed to give her this
privilege.
"Of all the propositions which I ever heard," said he, "it is the
most unreasonable. It amounts to this, that you are too proud to live
rent-free in a house which belongs to your husband's brother, and
therefore you intend to subject yourself and your children to the
great discomfort of a very straitened income. If you yourself only
were concerned I should have no right to say anything; but I think
myself bound to t
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