CHAPTER XL.
PHYLLIS AND DOROTHY.
But as they passed the small public garden, lying on the steep slope of the river banks, Philip caught sight of Phyllis sitting alone on one of the benches. He had seen but little of her at Toblach, and that was after a separation of some months. It was an opportunity not to be missed, and his arrangements could very well be made an hour later. Though the sun was gone down behind the mountains, the air was still warm and balmy, and the sky was of that deep blue which is caused by the absence of mist and vapor. Far away on the highest peaks the sunlight lingered, making all their soft colors glow with a delicate bloom and luster. Phyllis's pretty face, as she looked up at his approach, was a little sulky.
"Your father is making a tremendous fuss about this man," she said, looking up into his face with a hard expression in her bright eyes; "all the world is talking of it here. Is it prudent?"
"My darling!" he answered fondly, "this man is my elder brother—my father's son. How can we make too much fuss, as you call it? We must do all we can to compensate him for the past."
"But you can never reclaim him from his savagery—never!" she rejoined. "A man of thirty! He must remain a monster all his life. Is it certain that your father really married Sophy Goldsmith?"
"My father says so," he answered shortly.
"But they could not prove it," she continued with eagerness, and a shrewd expression in her face which made it look almost hateful to him, "and he is not compelled to own it. Why could he not have left him here in peace? It is the only wise thing to do. I don't say leave him in such poverty and misery as you find him in; no! that would be cruel and unjust. It is not too late yet to act sensibly. Why do not you all quietly hush it up? The Goldsmiths need never know; and you can provide comfortably for him. You will only work misery all round by taking him to England as your father's eldest son and heir. A monster like that to become an English gentleman! Good gracious!"
Philip made no answer. Such considerations had presented themselves to his own mind, and he had dismissed them hastily, as hateful temptations arising from the evil that was in his nature. Now that Phyllis uttered them they seemed more hateful from her lips. He did not know what the future might bring, but the present brought to him a clear and simple duty. Justice must be done to Sophy Goldsmith's son.
"Is it too late, dearest Philip?" asked Phyllis persuasively, both of her hands clasping his own. "Will not your father listen to reason? Don't you see what an enormous, enormous difference it makes to us! To me as much as to any of you. You are sacrificing me. I have turned it over and over in my mind till I am sick and weary of it. Have you never thought of what such a change must mean for me?"
"I have thought of it, my dear one," he said gently. "You are always first in my thoughts. But I must act according to my conscience."