One of Our Conquerors - World eBook Library

George Meredith
ment would promote himself and family to a station of eminence
naked over the Clock Tower of the House.’
She moaned. ‘At the vilest, I cannot regret my conduct—
bear what I may. I can bear real pain: what kills me is, the
suspicion. And I feel it like a guilty wretch! And I do not feel
the guilt! I should do the same again, on reflection. I do
believe it saved him. I do; oh! I do, I do. I cannot expect my
family to see with my eyes. You know them—my brother
and sisters think I have disgraced them; they put no value on
my saving him. It sounds childish; it is true. He had fallen
into a terrible black mood.’
‘He had an hour of gloom.’
‘An hour!’
‘But an hour, with him! It means a good deal.’
‘Ah, friend, I take your words. He sinks terribly when he
sinks at all. —Spare us a little while.—We have to judge of
what is good in the circumstances: I hear your reply! But the
principal for me to study is Victor. You have accused me of
being the voice of the enamoured woman. I follow him, I
know; I try to advise; I find it is wisdom to submit. My
people regard my behaviour as a wickedness or a madness. I
did save him. I joined my fate with his. I am his mate, to
help, and I cannot oppose him, to distract him. I do my
utmost for privacy. He must entertain. Believe me, I feel for
them—sisters and brother. And now that my sisters are married
… My brother has a man’s hardness.’
‘Colonel Dreighton did not speak harshly, at our last meeting.’
‘He spoke of me?’
‘He spoke in the tone of a brother.’
‘Victor promises—I won’t repeat it. Yes, I see the house!
There appears to be a prospect, a hope—I cannot allude to
it. Craye and Creckholt may have been some lesson to him.
Selwyn spoke of me kindly? Ah, yes, it is the way with my
people to pretend that Victor has been the ruin of me, that
they may come round to family sentiments. In the same way,
his relatives, the Duvidney ladies, have their picture of the
woman misleading him. Imagine me the naughty adventuress!’—Nataly
falsified the thought insurgent at her heart, in
adding: ‘I do not say I am blameless.’ It was a concession to
the circumambient enemy, of whom even a good friend was
apart, and not better than a respectful emissary. The dearest
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