“I cannot, and I assure you it has gained strength with years. No—I am not for opposing Emma.”
“But, my dear Hamilton, do I understand that these rumours give you no pain? I do but my duty in telling you that you are represented as completely hoodwinked and under hers and Nelson’s influence. Heaven forbid I should say it is true, but that is the notion freely expressed.”
“And how many men in London are ridiculed in the same way?”
He reckoned off on his delicate fingers a score of names in the highest positions, which the present recorder, for the peace of great families, reserves in his own discretion.
“I am really content to suffer in such good company,” he concluded placidly. “There is an ignorance, my dear Greville, which is as protective as the shell of the tortoise. I have full confidence in Emma’s high principles and the extraordinary discretion of Nelson. And if I had not, I should act just the same. For God’s sake, imagine me as the wronged hero of a trial for crim. con. What have I ever done to deserve the suspicion of being such a fool as to incur it, and after such a marriage as mine? Consider my marriage, and say no more. I repeat that I have the usual confidence in my wife and my friend.”
Greville understood him perfectly. Indeed, all the old man said was true, and it jumped entirely with Greville’s own convictions. These things happened, and one met them in the way which gave one least trouble. There was no more to be said. Yet he asked one question.
“My dear Hamilton, our friendship is of so many years’ standing that I venture to ask: Do these rumours trouble you? Are you discomposed or annoyed?”
“Never less!” said Sir William, laying the delicate veined hand on his catalogue. “These are the matters which really interest me. The world is receding—I never minded its opinion very greatly; I mind it not at all now. I should like to see you and a few other congenial friends frequently, and I have no objection to telling you that my will is made, and I have taken what I conceive to be the proper attitude toward my poor Emma’s extravagance. I have no doubt that her friendship with Nelson will have pecuniary results. Nor can I object to telling you that you are not only my executor but my residuary legatee.”
Greville’s thanks were warm and heart-felt. He took his cue perfectly from that moment. Certainly Sir William should be troubled with no rumours and no scandals from him. He should have the classic peace he desired.
Emma would have rejoiced in her safety from one of her blackest dreads. Yet even she might have thought the price of safety high. She certainly had reason to do so later.