“My dear Pen, and how?” cried Laura. “Indeed, indeed, I didn’t think to vex you by such a trifle. I thought such a clever man as you could bear a harmless little joke from his sister,” she said, holding her hand out again. “Dear Arthur, if I have hurt you, I beg your pardon.”
“It is your kindness that humiliates me more even than your laughter, Laura,” Pen said. “You are always my superior.”
“What! superior to the great Arthur Pendennis? How can it be possible?” said Miss Laura, who may have had a little wickedness as well as a great deal of kindness in her composition. “You can’t mean that any woman is your equal?”
“Those who confer benefits should not sneer,” said Pen. “I don’t like my benefactor to laugh at me, Laura; it makes the obligation very hard to bear. You scorn me because I have taken your money, and I am worthy to be scorned; but the blow is hard coming from you.”
“Money! Obligation! For shame, Pen; this is ungenerous,” Laura said, flushing red. “May not our mother claim everything that belongs to us? Don’t I owe her all my happiness in this world, Arthur? What matters about a few paltry guineas, if we can set her tender heart at rest, and ease her mind regarding you? I would dig in the fields, I would go out and be a servant—I would die for her. You know I would,” said Miss Laura, kindling up; “and you call this paltry money an obligation? Oh, Pen, it’s cruel—it’s unworthy of you to take it so! If my brother may not share with me my superfluity, who may?—Mine?—I tell you it was not mine; it was all mamma’s to do with as she chose, and so is everything I have,” said Laura; “my life is hers.” And the enthusiastic girl looked towards the windows of the widow’s room, and blessed in her heart the kind creature within.
Helen was looking, unseen, out of that window towards which Laura’s eyes and heart were turned as she spoke, and was watching her two children with the deepest interest and emotion, longing and hoping that the prayer of her life might be fulfilled; and if Laura had spoken as Helen hoped, who knows what temptations Arthur Pendennis might have been spared, or what different trials he would have had to undergo? He might have remained at Fairoaks all his days, and died a country gentleman. But would he have escaped then? Temptation is an obsequious servant that has no objection to the country, and we know that it takes up its lodging in hermitages as well as in cities; and that in the most remote and inaccessible desert it keeps company with the fugitive solitary.
“Is your life my mother’s?” said Pen, beginning to tremble, and speak in a very agitated manner. “You know, Laura, what the great object of hers is?” And he took her hand once more.
“What, Arthur?” she said, dropping it, and looking at him, at the window again, and then dropping her eyes to the ground, so that they avoided Pen’s gaze. She, too, trembled, for she felt that the crisis for which she had been secretly preparing was come.
“Our mother has one wish above all others in the world, Laura,” Pen said; “and I think you know it. I own to you that she has spoken to me of it; and if you will fulfil it, dear sister, I am ready. I am but very young as yet; but I have had so many pains and disappointments, that I am old and weary. I think I have hardly got a heart to offer. Before I have almost begun the race in life, I am a tired man. My career has been a failure; I have been protected by those whom I by right should have protected. I own that your nobleness and generosity, dear Laura, shame me, whilst they render me grateful. When I heard from our mother what you had done for me; that it was you who armed me and bade me go out for one struggle more; I longed to go and throw myself at your feet, and say, ‘Laura, will you come and share the contest with me?’ Your sympathy will cheer me while it lasts. I shall have one of the tenderest and most generous creatures under heaven to aid and bear me company. Will you take me, dear Laura, and make our mother happy?”
“Do you think mamma would be happy if you were otherwise, Arthur?” Laura said in a low sad voice.