Part 23 (1/2)
”She has told me all there is to tell, I dare say,” answered Madam.
”Well, mother, what do you think?”
”I see no harm in it yet awhile. It is not fair, Edward, to condemn upon likelihoods. We are no saints, sinful men and women, all of us, and as much inclined to forbidden fruit as any good Christians can be. Ethel can do as she feels about it; she's got a mind of her own, and I hope to goodness she'll not let Ruth Bayard bit and bridle it.”
Going home the Judge evidently pondered this question, for he said after a lengthy silence, ”Grandmother's ethics do not always fit the social ethics of this day, Ethel. She criticises people with her heart, not her intellect. You must be prudent. There is a remarkable thing called Respectability to be reckoned with remember that.”
And Ethel answered, ”No one need worry about Dora. Some women may show the edges of their character soiled and ragged, but Dora will be sure to have hers reputably finished with a hem of the widest propriety.”
And after a short silence the Judge added, almost in soliloquy, ”And, moreover, Ethel,
”'There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will.'”
PART FOURTH -- THE REAPING OF THE SOWING
CHAPTER X
WHEN Ethel and Tyrrel parted at the steamer they did not expect a long separation, but Colonel Rawdon never recovered his health, and for many excellent reasons Tyrrel could not leave the dying man. Nor did Ethel wish him to do so. Under these circ.u.mstances began the second beautiful phase of Ethel's wooing, a sweet, daily correspondence, the best of all preparations for matrimonial oneness and understanding. Looking for Tyrrel's letters, reading them, and answering them pa.s.sed many happy hours, for to both it was an absolute necessity to a.s.sure each other constantly,
”Since I wrote thee yester eve I do love thee, Love, believe, Twelve times dearer, twelve hours longer, One dream deeper one night stronger, One sun surer--this much more Than I loved thee, dear, before.”
And for the rest, she took up her old life with a fresh enthusiasm.
Among these interests none were more urgent in their claims than Dora Stanhope; and fortified by her grandmother's opinion, Ethel went at once to call on her. She found Basil with his wife, and his efforts to make Ethel see how much he expected from her influence, and yet at the same time not even hint a disapproval of Dora, were almost pathetic, for he was so void of sophistry that his innuendoes were flagrantly open to detection. Dora felt a contempt for them, and he had hardly left the room ere she said:
”Basil has gone to his vestry in high spirits. When I told him you were coming to see me to-day he smiled like an angel. He believes you will keep me out of mischief, and he feels a grand confidence in something which he calls 'your influence.'”
”What do you mean by mischief?”
”Oh, I suppose going about with Fred Mostyn. I can't help that. I must have some one to look after me. All the young men I used to know pa.s.s me now with a lifted hat or a word or two. The girls have forgotten me. I don't suppose I shall be asked to a single dance this winter.”
”The ladies in St. Jude's church would make a pet of you if----”
”The old cats and kittens! No, thank you, I am not going to church except on Sunday mornings--that is respectable and right; but as to being the pet of St. Jude's ladies! No, no! How they would mew over my delinquencies, and what scratches I should get from their velvet-shod claws! If I have to be talked about, I prefer the ladies of the world to discuss my frailties.”
”But if I were you, I would give no one a reason for saying a word against me. Why should you?”
”Fred will supply them with reasons. I can't keep the man away from me.
I don't believe I want to--he is very nice and useful.”
”You are talking nonsense, things you don't mean, Dora. You are not such a foolish woman as to like to be seen with Fred Mostyn, that little monocular sn.o.b, after the aristocratic, handsome Basil Stanhope. The comparison is a mockery. Basil is the finest gentleman I ever saw.
Socially, he is perfection, and----”
”He is only a clergyman.”
”Even as a clergyman he is of religiously royal descent. There are generations of clergymen behind him, and he is a prince in the pulpit.
Every man that knows him gives him the highest respect, every woman thinks you the most fortunate of wives. No one cares for Fred Mostyn.