Part 22 (2/2)

”And I am so poor I cannot get her the change of air, the luxuries, the medicines, which would at least prolong life, and make death easy.”

”Go back with me to Sandal-Side, and see the squire: he may listen to you now.”

”Never more! It was cruel of father to take my marriage in such a way.

He turned my life's joy into a crime, cursed every hour that was left me.”

”People used to be so intense--'a few strong feelings,' as Mr.

Wordsworth says--too strong for ordinary life. We really can't afford to love and hate and suffer in such a teetotal way now; but the squire came from the Middle Ages. This is a dreadfully hot place, Harry.”

”Yes, it is. We were very much deceived in it. I bought it; and we dreamed of vineyards and milk and wine, and a long, happy, simple life together. Nothing has prospered with us. We were swindled in the house and land. The signor knows nothing about vines. He was born here, and wanted to come back and be a great man.” And as he spoke he laughed hysterically, and took Julius into an inner room. ”I don't want Beatrice to hear that I am out of money. She does not know I am dest.i.tute. That sorrow, at least, I have kept from her.”

”Harry, I am going to make you a proposal. I want to be kind and just to you. I want to put you beyond the need of any one's help. Answer me one question truly. If your father dies, what will you do?”

”You said he was getting better. For G.o.d's sake, do not speak of his death.”

”I am supposing a case. You would then be squire of Sandal-Side. Would you return there with Beatrice?”

”Ah, no! I know what those Dalesmen are. My father's feelings were only their feelings intensified by his relation to me. They would look upon me as my father's murderer, and Beatrice as an accessory to the deed.”

”Still you would be squire of Sandal-Side.”

”Mother would have to take my place, or Charlotte. I have thought of that. I could not bear to sit in father's chair, and go up and down the house. I should see him always. I should hear continually that awful cry with which he fell. It fills, even here, all the s.p.a.ces of my memory and my dreams. I cannot go back to Sandal-Side. Nothing could take me back, not even my mother.”

”Then listen, I am the heir failing you.”

”No, no: there is my son Michael.”

Julius was stunned for a moment. ”Oh, yes! The child is a boy, then?”

”It is a boy. What were you going to say?”

”I was going to ask you to sell your rights to me for ten thousand pounds. It would be better for you to have a sum like that in your hand at once, than to trust to dribbling remittances sent now and then by women in charge. You could invest that sum to n.o.ble purpose in America, become a citizen of the country, and found an American line, as my father has founded an Indian one.”

”The poor little chap makes no difference. He is only born to die. And I think your offer is a good one. I am so worn out, and things are really desperate with me. I never can go back to England. I am sick to death of Florence. There are places where Beatrice might even yet recover. Yes, for her sake, I will sell you my inheritance. Can I have the money soon?”

”This hour. I had the proper paper drawn up before I came here. Read it over carefully. See if you think it fair and honorable. If you do, sign your name; and I will give you a check you can cash here in Florence.

Then it will be your own fault if Beatrice wants change of air, luxuries, and medicine.”

He laid the paper on the table, and Harry sat down and pretended to read it. But he did not understand any thing of the jargon. The words danced up and down. He could only see ”Beatrice,” ”freedom from care,” ”power to get away from Florence,” and the final thought, the one which removed his last scruple, ”Lanza can have the cottage, and I shall be clear of him forever.”

Without a word he went for a pen and ink, and wrote his name boldly to the deed of relinquishment. Then Julius handed him a check for ten thousand pounds, and went with him to the bank in order to facilitate the transfer of the sum to Harry's credit. On the street, in the hot suns.h.i.+ne, they stood a few minutes.

”You are quite satisfied, Harry?”

”You have saved me from despair. Perhaps you have saved Beatrice. I am grateful to you.”

”Have I done justly and honorably by you?”

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