‘You said you had something to say to me—out with it! I have a hundred things to do. You never were so busy in your life as I am. Indeed, I don’t suppose you know what being occupied means.’
‘Of course it is the old subject I want to talk of. What could it be else! What is to be done? You know everything that has happened as well as I do. Busy! If you knew what my reflections are early and late, waking and sleeping——’
‘I think I can form an idea. Has something new occurred—or is it the old question, the eternal old business, which you never thought of, unfortunately, till it was too late?’
‘It is no business of yours to taunt me, nor is it a friend’s office. I am driven to my wit’s ends. For anything I can see, things may go on as they are for a dozen years.’
‘Everybody must have felt so from the beginning. How you could be so mad, both she and you; you most, in one way, for you knew the world better; she most, in another, for it is of more importance to a woman.’
‘Shut up, Bertie. I won’t have any re-discussion of that question. The thing is, what is to be done now? I was such a fool as to write to her about going down to Langton, at my father’s desire; and now I dare not go, or she will go frantic. Besides, she says it must be acknowledged before long: she must do it, if I can’t.’
‘Good God!’
‘What is there to be horrified about? It was all natural. The thing is, what is to be done? If she would keep quiet, all would be right. I am sure her mother could manage everything. One place is as good as another to live in. Don’t look at me like that. I am distracted—going mad—and you won’t give me any help.’
‘The question is, what help can I give?’
‘It is easy enough—as easy as daylight. If I were to go, it would only make us both miserable, and lead to imprudences. I know it would. But if you will do it for me——’