In squalor, poverty and incessant anxiety, she had kept her spirit tranquil and true. Her affection which never criticised, made no demands, seemed to him to sanctify this place. He remembered that when he had first learned of her origin, in Miss Amy’s violent words, he had believed himself “disillusioned”; and had been bitter and angry toward her. That was nearly eight years ago; she was thirty now; the best of her youth was over, had passed in cruel and thankless servitude. No matter what happened in the future, that couldn’t be effaced, those wrongs could never be repaired. Lawrence had exploited her shamelessly, Miss Amy had exploited her, her sister in her blind and pitiful motherhood would have drained her dry of blood for the benefit of her children; he himself had repudiated and deserted her. And she had no rancour, no bitterness even toward life in the abstract. She was simply resigned, a little sorrowful, but brave, patient, enduring to the uttermost end.
He got up suddenly and held out his hand.
“Good night!” he said, brusquely. “You’ll hear from me very soon.”
CHAPTER THREE
I
He had never been so wretched before. It was the suffering of a vigourous and obstinate man entangled in a situation in which he is unable to move. He wished to lay everything at Rosaleen’s feet, and yet could give her nothing. He longed to relieve her intolerable burdens, and could not take a step toward doing so.
And, as always when he was not able to act, anger took possession of him. He was cool, resolute, self-controlled enough when there was anything for him to do, but tie his hands and his blood began to boil. His wrath began to descend upon Lawrence. He decided that he would go to see him, to threaten, to bully, to bribe, in some way to force him to free Rosaleen against her will. He refused to see the absurdity of this; directly he had made the decision he felt a sort of peace, and he was able to go home and to sleep.
He knew very well that there must be a reckoning at home, and he welcomed it. He wanted it. He blamed all the world for Rosaleen’s sufferings. He wished to defend her and to fight for her. Unaccountably and very unjustly he was angry at his aunt and at Caroline. (Or was it perhaps that he subconsciously wished to forestall their reproaches?).... However, he appeared at breakfast the next morning in a most unpleasant mood. He said “Good morning!” frigidly to Mrs. Allanby, and sat down at the table with a frown.
“I’d like to speak to you alone for a minute, if you please!” he said.
With a gesture his aunt dismissed the servant, and sat looking quietly at him.