"That is your business, my lady; you invited them, now get rid of them."
The speech was a cruel one, for although Sir Philip did not know they had already been ejected from the other part of the family, he knew that Mr. Godfrey and Hester were so taken up just now in establishing the duchess in her jointure-house and in removing thither the divinities of the far-famed pagan temple, that they could think of nothing else. Mrs. Godfrey was at home, but was said to be in delicate health, and Eugene was absent; none seemed to know where or why. A moment's reflection might have told Sir Philip that just then the unfortunate emigrant ladies had no home save the one in which they now found themselves; but he consulted only his own dogged temper, and tormented his wife at every private interview to get rid of them.
But Annie knew not how, and her obstinacy in not complying with his commands enraged him; Sir Philip had a high idea of his marital authority, though he knew not whence he derived it, nor, indeed, how to enforce it. In this latter particular, however, he sought counsel from his friend Brookbank, as he termed his lawyer, and this latter was not slow in using every advantage he could obtain over Annie.
"Prudence and patience. Sir Philip, will accomplish all things." said the lawyer; "it would be unwise, as you perceive, to incur the odium of turning those ladies out of doors, until the grounds of complaint become ostnsible; wait awhile, they will become so. From my knowledge of the amiable character of the lady, your wife, Sir Philip, I should be perfectly surprised at this resistance to your legitimate authority, did I not fear that my lady herself is somewhat infected with the opinions of the young French refugee. You, Sir Philip, are well aware, attachment to that baneful creed overcomes every other sense of duty."
"My lady Conway a Catholic!" ejaculated the now bewildered Sir Philip.
"Nay, I say not that—I think not that; only a favorer of her cousin's views. No open profession of Catholicity, only a secret inclination thereunto."
"They shall be separated this very day," thundered the baronet.
"Pardon me. Sir Philip; I have the utmost confidence in your judgment; your just antipathy to popish superstition fortifies my own. But if you will allow me one word which appears to differ, but in fact agrees with your opinion; may I be permitted to say, that it would be hardly prudent just now to give any air of martyrdom to this business. Weak women are flattered thereby. Your object is, of course, to detach Lady Conway from every Catholic idea. Your strong good sense and powers of reasoning will effect this, provided that you do not rouse the strong obstinacy of female nature. Wait till the visit ends in a natural manner, and then take measures to restore your lady wife to her senses."
Alfred knew well that in giving this advice he ran no risk of seeing it acted upon. The character of the man he addressed was too ungovernable for that; he had but roused into fiercer play the half-dormant passion, the half-latent suspicion. Sir Philip appeared [{489}] to acquiesce, but, as Alfred intended, all his faculties were now aroused to put and unfavorable construction on his wife's actions ions. His tone became more churlish, and even more authoritative then was its wont. Politeness and forbearance were at an end. To his two guests he scarcely behaved with decency.
Annie was too deeply hurt to feel all the indignation that this course would naturally have led her to manifest. She used all her endeavors to shield from actual insult the bereaved emigrants, and to compensate by her own assiduous attentions for the rudeness of her husband. She even mastered herself so as calmly to remonstrate with him on the subject, "Sir Philip," said she, "have you considered that the revolution of France cannot, from the very nature of things, be permanent; that these ladies are of the haute noblesse, and one day their estates will be restored to them?"