One of Our Conquerors - World eBook Library

George Meredith
exile. ‘No,’ said he, ‘you’re sure to meet friends.’
Her cheeks glowed. It came wholly through the suddenness
of the recollection, that the family-seat of one among
the friends was near the Wells.
He was allowed to fancy, as it suited him to fancy, that a
vivid secret pleasure laid the colour on those ingenuous fair
cheeks.
‘A solitary flute for me, for a month! I shall miss my sober
comrade: got the habit of duetting: and he’s gentle, bears
with me.’
Tears lined her eyelids. ‘Who would not be, dearest dada!
But there is nothing to bear except the honour.’
‘You like him? You and I always have the same tastes, Fredi.’
Now there was a reddening of the sun at the mount; all the
sky aflame. How could he know that it was not the heart in
the face! She reddened because she had perused his wishes;
had detected a scheme striking off from them, and knew a
man to be the object of it; and because she had at the same
time the sense of a flattery in her quick divination; and she
was responsively emotional, her blood virginal; often it was
a tropical lightning.
It looked like the heart doing rich painter’s work on maiden
features. Victor was naturally as deceived as he wished to be.
From his being naturally so, his remarks on Dudley had
an air of embracing him as one of the family. ‘His manner to
me just hits me.’
‘I like to see him with you,’ she said.
Her father let his tongue run: ‘One of the few young men
I feel perfectly at home with! I do like dealing with a gentleman.
I can confide in a gentleman: honour, heart, whatever
I hold dearest.’
There he stopped, not too soon. The girl was mute, fully
agreeing, slightly hardening. She had a painful sense of separation
from her dear Louise. And it was now to be from her
mother as well: she felt the pain when kissing her mother in
bed. But this was moderated by the prospect of a holiday
away out of reach of Mr. Barmby’s pursuing voice, whom
her mother favoured: and her mother was concealing something
from her; so she could not make the confidante of her
mother. Nataly had no forewarnings. Her simple regrets filled
her bosom. All night she had been taking her chastisement,
and in the morning it seemed good to her, that she should
231