Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/712

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602
POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF THE PICKWICK CLUB
602

602 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF

" No, Sir/' she replied, timidly.

" No/' said the gentleman, nursing his left leg ; " I don't know how you should. You know my name, though. Ma'am."

'^ Do I ? " said Arabella, trembling, though she scarcely knew why. " May I ask what it is } "

" Presently, JMa'am, presently," said the stranger, not having yet re- moved his eyes from her countenance. " You have been recently married. Ma'am."

" I have," replied Arabella, in a scarcely audible tone, laying aside her work, and becoming greatly agitated as a thought, that had oc- curred to her before, struck more forcibly upon her mind.

" Without having represented to your husband the propriety of first consulting his father, on whom he is dependent, I think ? " said the stranger.

Arabella applied her handkerchief to her eyes.

" Without an endeavour even to ascertain, by some indirect appeal, what were the old man's sentiments on a point in which he would naturally feel much interested," said the stranger.

" I cannot deny it. Sir," said Arabella.

"And without having sufficient property of your own to afford your liusband any permanent assistance in exchange for the worldly ad- vantages which you knew he would have gained if he had married agreeably to his father's wishes," said the old gentleman. '^ This is what boys and girls call disinterested affection, till they have boys and girls of their own, and then they see it in a rougher and very different light."

Arabella's tears flowed fast, as she pleaded in extenuation that she was young and inexperienced ; that her attachment had alone induced her to take the step to which she had resorted, and that she had been deprived of the counsel and guidance of her parents almost from infancy.

" It was wrong," said the old gentleman in a milder tone, ^^ very wrong. It was romantic, unbusiness-like, foolish."

" It was my fault ; all my fault. Sir," replied poor Arabella, weeping.

" Nonsense," said the old gentleman, it was not your fault that he fell in love with you, I suppose. Yes it was though," said the old gentleman, looking rather slyly at Arabella. " It was your fault. He couldn't help it."

This little compliment, or the little gentleman's odd way of paying it, or his altered manner — so much kinder than it was at first — or all three together, forced a smile from Arabella in the midst of her tears.

" Where's your husband ? " enquired the old gentleman, abruptly ; stopping a smile which was just coming over his own face.

" I expect him every instant. Sir," said Arabella. " I persuaded him to take a walk this morning. He is very low and wretched at not having heard from his father."

. " Low, is he.'*" said the old gentleman. *' Serve him right." "He feels it on my account, I am afraid," said Arabella ; and