“I don’t know where he’s gone,” he answered, “and I shouldn’t worry in that matter, because you can’t alter it, or turn Ned Dingle from his plans, whatever they may be. On the whole, I should back him to do the fair thing in his own time. You can’t expect him to go out of his way for them.”
“He wants to punish them seemingly,” said Lydia. “He told me the harder Kellock was hit, the better people would be pleased. In fact he’s getting a bit of his own back, I suppose, or thinks he is.”
“In this case, it’s all or none,” answered Mr. Knox. “He can’t get a bit of his own back, and he can’t call it his own if it’s ceased to be his own. The subject’s wrapped in mystery, Lydia Trivett, and only time will hatch what’s really in Ned’s mind.”
“He oughtn’t to keep them on tenterhooks like this,” she said; but Philander felt no call to criticise Mr. Dingle.
“He’ll suit himself, and why not? I’ve given him a bit of useful advice. Whether he’ll take it or not I can’t of course, say; but don’t you fret, that’s all. Medora’s broke up a bit, I fancy. She’s just beginning to see in a dim sort of way she’s not everybody. Being your daughter, I’m willing to offer friendship; but if she’s going to thrust me out of your thoughts, then she’ll have one more enemy than she’s got at present, I warn you of that.”
“You mustn’t talk so, my dear man, if you please,” said Mrs. Trivett. “My daughter’s affairs and your affairs are two different things, and you needn’t fear I’m forgetting all you’ve told me. You must let me have the full fortnight I bargained for last week. But you’re on my mind too—working underground like a mole—and though I may not exactly see you at it, there’s the marks of you. In fact I do think of you a lot, and if it’s any comfort to you, I’ve dreamed of you once or twice.”
“In a friendly way, I hope?”
“Quite friendly. We was shopping in a great shop, and I was carrying a lot of parcels.”
“I don’t believe in dreams,” he said. “Give me reality, and make up your mind. Above all things don’t be influenced against me by—well, you know. That’s where the danger lies, in my opinion, and you’ll be going under your character if you let sentiment and silliness and a barrow-load of other people’s children come between you and your duty to yourself—not to mention me. Because I warn you, Lydia, that the grand mistake you make is that you forget your duty to yourself. A lot of good Christians do that; though your duty to yourself is quite as much a part of righteousness as your duty to your neighbour. We’re told to love our neighbour as ourselves, I believe, not better. And there’s another side; by doing that woman’s work, and coming between her and the lawful consequences of that litter of children, you’re not doing her any good, but harm. You’re ruining her character, and helping her to live a lazy life. You’ve taught her and your brother to take you as an every-day creature, and all as much in the course of nature as their daily bread, whereas the truth is that you are that rare thing, an angel in the house, and your qualities are clean hidden from their stupid eyes. It’s making a couple naturally selfish, ten times more so; and that’s what you unselfish people bring about so often as not. You toil and moil and work your fingers to the bone doing your duty, as you think, when half the time you’re only doing somebody else’s duty. And what’s the result? You’re not even respected for it. You’re taken for granted—that’s all the reward you get—you’re taken for granted—never a nice thing at best. And I tell you that you’re up against justice to me and yourself, Lydia. For though we’ve not known each other a year yet, there’s that in our natures that belongs to each other. It would be a very proper thing to happen, and we should be teaching your brother’s family a very simple but valuable lesson, which is that to have anything for nothing in this world is robbery.”
“All as true as true,” she answered. “I never find myself questioning your sense, and I quite admit there’s often nobody so properly selfish as your unselfish sort. I’ve seen them play the mischief with other people’s lives, and create a very mistaken state of security in other people’s houses.”