One of Our Conquerors - World eBook Library

George Meredith
Borough. He counts on a death: Ah! terrible! I have it like a
snake’s bite night and day.’
Nataly concluded: ‘There: it has done me some good to
speak. I feel so base.’ She breathed heavily.
Dartrey took her hand and bent his lips to it. ‘Happy the
woman who has not more to speak! How long will Nesta
stay here?’
‘You will watch over her, Dartrey? She stays-her father
wishes—up to—ah! We can hardly be in such extreme peril.
He has her doctor, her lawyer, and her butler—a favourite
servant—to check, and influence, her: She—you know who
it is!—does not, I am now convinced, mean persecution.
She was never a mean-minded woman. Oh! I could wish she
were. They say she is going. Then I am to be made an “honest
woman of.” Victor wants Nesta, now that she is away, to
stay until … You understand. He feels she is safe from any
possible kind of harm with those good ladies. And I feel she
is the safer for having you near. Otherwise, how I should
pray to have you with us! Daily I have to pass through, well,
something like the ordeal of the red-hot ploughshares—and
without the innocence, dear friend! But it’s best that my girl
should not have to be doing the same; though she would
have the innocence. But she writhes under any shadow of a
blot. And for her to learn the things that are in the world,
through her mother’s history!—and led to know it by the
falling away of friends, or say, acquaintances! However ignorant
at present, she learns from a mere nothing. I dread! … .
In a moment, she is a blaze of light. There have been occurrences.
Only Victor could have overcome them! I had to
think it better for my girl, that she was absent. We are in
such a whirl up there! So I work round again to “how long?”
and the picture of myself counting the breaths of a dying
woman. The other day I was told I was envied!’
‘Battle, battle, battle; for all of us, in every position!’ said
Dartrey sharply, to clip a softness: ‘except when one’s attending
on an invalid uncle. Then it’s peace; rather like extinction.
And I can’t be crying for the end either. I bite my moustache
and tap foot on the floor, out of his hearing; make
believe I’m patient. Now I ‘ll fetch Nesta.’
Mrs. Blathenoy came down with an arm on Nesta’s shoulder.
She held a telegram, and said to Nataly
‘What can this mean? It’s from my husband; he puts
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