He thrust her down the passage. She kept her white face towards him, and went along sliding her hands against the wall, against which she leaned her back.
'I did suppose you had more sense than this. I knew you were bit, but not that you were poisoned. I thought that you would be too wise to go on with your courting when you found that you had been robbed by Charles. Who that is not a fool will give the run of his house to the man who has plundered him? Can you keep him out when you have married his sister? What of the young ones? They will grow up like their brother. Roguery is like measles, it runs through a house. Have not I been faithful? Have I taken a thread out of your clothes, or a nail from your shoe? Have I relations to pester you for help? Mine might have begged, but would not have stolen; yours will have their hands in all your pockets. Now you are everything in the house, and we are all your slaves. All is yours, your voice rules, your will governs. Will it be so when you bring a mistress home—and that Honor Luxmore? Everyone knows her; she governs the house.' Mrs. Veale laughed again. 'That will be a fine sight to see Master Taverner Langford under the slipper. "I'm seen in the half but lost in the full," said the man in the moon.'
Langford thrust her through the kitchen door and shut it, then returned to his parlour, where he bolted himself in, and paced the room with his arms folded behind his back.
There was enough of truth in what Mrs. Veale had said to make him feel uncomfortable. It was true that now he was absolute in his house; but would he reign as independently when married? Was not the ox inviting the gadfly to help to draw the plough? In going after the honey, like the fox, was he not inviting stings?
Langford had suffered great loss from rabbits. They came out of Chimsworthy plantation and fell on his turnips, nibbled pieces out of hundreds, spoiling whole rows, which when touched rotted with the first frost. Therefore Mrs. Veale's allusion to them went home. Yes!—there were a swarm of human rabbits threatening, the children from the cottage. They would all prey on him. He was inviting them to do so. 'I till for you,' said the farmer. Confound Mrs. Veale! Why was she so full of saws and likenesses that cut like knives? And Charles!—of course he would return when he knew that he would not be prosecuted. How could he be prosecuted when the brother-in-law of the man he had robbed? When he returned, how could he be kept away, how prevented from farther rascality? A thousand pounds gone! and he was not to punish the man who had taken the money. This was inviting him to come and rob him again. He did not think much of what Honor had said of an attachment to some unknown person. Taverner had never loved, and knew nothing of love as a passion. He regarded it as an ephemeral fancy. Every girl thought herself in love, got over it, and bore no scars. It would be so with Honor. Presently he rang for his breakfast. Mrs. Veale came in. She saw he was disconcerted, but she said nothing, till the tray was on the table, and she was leaving; then, holding the handle of the door, she said, 'It is a pity.'
'What is a pity?'
'The hare hunt.'
'What of that?' he asked angrily.
'That it was not put off a month, then changed to a stag hunt,' she replied, and went through the door quickly, lest he should knock her down.
Mrs. Veale went to her kitchen, and seated herself by the fire. She was paler than usual, and her eyelids blinked nervously. There was work to be done that morning, but she neglected it.