"I say," reiterated Robert, deadly pale, and stamping, "he's an insolent rascal; and if I catch him coming to this house I'll tell him so. A rustic boor like that to hint at marrying a girl who has always been my parents' pet, and is my mother's favorite companion—"
He stopped abruptly; and his brother, who was a perfect mimic, continued in precisely his tone, "And is so dear to Robert Wickham, that he will not hear her name coupled with another man's—"
He had gone too far; Robert's indignation boiled over—he sprang at him—and before he had time to stir, struck him a blow between the eyes, which brought sparks from them, and blood from his nose. A crash and struggle followed, which Polly heard. She ran to the room, anticipating nothing more than that some of the large dogs, privileged to roam about the house, were quarrelling over the cold meat. Amazed, beyond all power of words, she stood silent and very pale. Then, feeling, young as she was, instinctive womanly power over the disgraced young men, and holding herself [{404}] so erect that she looked a head taller than usual, she said, coldly and firmly, "I am ashamed of you!"
By that time they were ashamed of themselves. Alfred, covering his disfigured face with his handkerchief, left the room slowly. Robert, who had received no visible hurt, threw up a sash, jumped out, and when he turned to shut the window, looked earnestly and sadly at Polly, so as to bring a strange unwelcome sensation to her heart.
There was an awkwardness at dinner that day. Polly had removed the traces of the fray, and kept her counsel; but Alfred's features defied concealment. He stayed in his room with raw beef on them, and mutton-broth and barley-water for his regimen. His mother and Betty could get nothing out of him but that Bob was a fool, and had licked him for teasing him. He was by no means given to repentance; but his bruises, and a message from the vicar, desiring to see him early next morning, led him to the conclusion that he had better have "kept his tongue within his teeth." He was sufficiently humbled to receive silently unusually severe reproofs from his guardian, who had informed him that he had sent for him in order to avoid the risk of paining his excellent mother. It was not only that he knew all that Betty could tell of "the row" between the brothers, and that he denounced the "ruffianliness" of "brawling in a widowed mother's house," but that Mr. Kemp, in whose house in London he lived, had inclosed bills of disgraceful amount, in a letter complaining that Alfred's taste for pleasure threatened to be his ruin; and regretting that justice to his own family compelled him to decline retaining him as an inmate after the approaching midsummer. The young man's unusual power of pleasing, he said, made his example peculiarly dangerous.
"And now," said the vicar, "I ask you if your heart is not touched by the thought of the pain that this letter would give your dead father, were he living; and if you could bear your mother to know it? It is only for her sake that I spare you. I will beg Mr. Kemp to retract his resolution to dismiss you, if you become steadier, and I shall charge him to let it be known that I will not pay any bills that exceed the limit of your very handsome allowance: and I warn you that my natural easiness and indolence shall not prevent my being severe if you require it. As to the affair yesterday, I shall not inquire into it; but I warn you that the recurrence of anything so disgraceful shall prevent your spending your vacations at home; and I am sorry to say to one of my good uncle's sons, that I am glad he must return to town the day after to-morrow."
Alfred was surprised and alarmed, and made professions of penitence, and promises of amendment.
There was a visible change thenceforward in Robert. He became more manly in his bearing; and variable in his manner to Polly, saying even at times very sharp things to her. The sweet-tempered girl gave no provocation, and felt no resentment; but hid sometimes a tear. She did not like to displease any one whom Mrs. Wickham loved. Robert attended to business, took his proper place in society, and was popular; and she felt it a relief when he was out, and she had not to play for him. It was within three months of his twenty-first birthday, when, on one of the frequent occasions of his dining with the vicar, that gentleman asked him what were his plans. He replied that he hadn't any.
"But, my dear boy, my authority over you is near its end, and so is your enforced residence with your mother. It is time to think where you will live."
"I don't think my mother will turn me out."