Part 12 (1/2)
”No, it does not.”
”And it does not mean that there is anyone else whom you are thinking of marrying?”
”I am not thinking of marrying anyone.”
”Or that you love any other man?”
”You are cross-questioning me, aunt, more than is fair.”
”Then there is some one?”
”No, there is n.o.body. What I say about John I don't say through any feeling for anybody else.”
”Then, my dear, I think that a little talk between you and me may make this matter all right. I'm sure you don't doubt John when he says that he loves you very dearly. As for your loving him, of course that would come. It is not as if you two were two young people, and that you wanted to be billing and cooing. Of course you ought to be fond of each other, and like each other's company; and I have no doubt that you will. You and I would, of course, be thrown very much together, and I'm sure I'm very fond of you. Indeed, Margaret, I have endeavoured to show that I am.”
”You've been very kind, aunt.”
”Therefore as to your loving him, I really don't think there need be any doubt about that. Then, my dear, as to the other part of the arrangement,--the money and all that. If you were to have any children, your own fortune would be settled on them; at least, that could be arranged, if you required it; though, as your fortune all came from the b.a.l.l.s, and is the very money with which the t.i.tle was intended to be maintained, you probably would not be very exacting about that. Stop a moment, my dear, and let me finish before you speak. I want you particularly to think of what I say, and to remember that all your money did come from the b.a.l.l.s. It has been very hard upon John,--you must feel that. Look at him with his heavy family, and how he works for them!”
”But my uncle Jonathan died and left his money to my brothers before John was married. It is twenty-five years ago.”
”Well I remember it, my dear! John was just engaged to Rachel, and the marriage was put off because of the great cruelty of Jonathan's will. Of course I am not blaming you.”
”I was only ten years old, and uncle Jonathan did not leave me a penny. My money came to me from my brother; and, as far as I can understand, it is nearly double as much as he got from Sir John's brother.”
”That may be; but John would have doubled it quite as readily as Walter Mackenzie. What I mean to say is this, that as you have the money which in the course of nature would have come to John, and which would have been his now if a great injustice had not been done--”
”It was done by a Ball, and not by a Mackenzie.”
”That does not alter the case in the least. Your feelings should be just the same in spite of that. Of course the money is yours and you can do what you like with it. You can give it to young Mr Samuel Rubb, if you please.” Stupid old woman! ”But I think you must feel that you should repair the injury which was done, as it is in your power to do so. A fine position is offered you. When poor Sir John goes, you will become Lady Ball, and be the mistress of this house, and have your own carriage.” Terribly stupid old woman! ”And you would have friends and relatives always round you, instead of being all alone at such a place as Littlebath, which must, I should say, be very sad. Of course there would be duties to perform to the dear children; but I don't think so ill of you, Margaret, as to suppose for an instant that you would shrink from that. Stop one moment, my dear, and I shall have done. I think I have said all now; but I can well understand that when John spoke to you, you could not immediately give him a favourable answer. It was much better to leave it till to-morrow. But you can't have any objection to speaking out to me, and I really think you might make me happy by saying that it shall be as I wish.”
It is astonis.h.i.+ng the harm that an old woman may do when she goes well to work, and when she believes she can prevail by means of her own peculiar eloquence. Lady Ball had so trusted to her own prestige, to her own ladys.h.i.+p, to her own carriage and horses, and to the rest of it, and had also so misjudged Margaret's ordinary mild manner, that she had thought to force her niece into an immediate acquiescence by her mere words. The result, however, was exactly the contrary to this. Had Miss Mackenzie been left to herself after the interview with Mr Ball: had she gone upstairs to sleep upon his proposal, without any disturbance to those visions of sacrificial duty which his plain statement had produced: had she been allowed to leave the house and think over it all without any other argument to her than those which he had used, I think that she would have accepted him. But now she was up in arms against the whole thing.
Her mind, clear as it was, was hardly lucid enough to allow of her separating the mother and son at this moment. She was claimed as a wife into the family because they thought that they had a right to her fortune; and the temptations offered, by which they hoped to draw her into her duty, were a beggarly t.i.tle and an old coach! No!
The visions of sacrificial duty were all dispelled. There was doubt before, but now there was no doubt.
”I think I will go to bed, aunt,” she said very calmly, ”and I will write to John from Littlebath.”
”And cannot you put me out of my suspense?”
”If you wish it, yes. I know that I must refuse him. I wish that I had told him so at once, as then there would have been an end of it.”
”You don't mean that you have made up your mind?”
”Yes, aunt, I do. I should be wrong to marry a man that I do not love; and as for the money, aunt, I must say that I think you are mistaken.”
”How mistaken?”
”You think that I am called upon to put right some wrong that you think was done you by Sir John's brother. I don't think that I am under any such obligation. Uncle Jonathan left his money to his sister's children instead of to his brother's children. If his money had come to John, you would not have admitted that we had any claim, because we were nephews and nieces.”