MR WHARTON THINKS OF A NEW WILL.
On that afternoon, immediately on the husband's return to the house, his wife spoke to him as her father had desired.On that evening Mr Wharton was dining at his club, and therefore there was the whole evening before them; but the thing to be done was disagreeable, and therefore she did it at once,--rushing into the matter almost before he had seated himself in the arm-chair which he had appropriated to his use in the drawing-room.'Papa was talking about our affairs after you left this morning, and he thinks that it would be so much better if you would tell him about them.'
'What made him talk of that today?' he said, turning at her almost angrily and thinking at once of the Duke's cheque.
'I suppose it is natural that he should be anxious about us, Ferdinand;--and the more natural as he has money to give if he chooses to give it.'
'I have asked him for nothing lately;--though, by George, Iintend to ask him and that very roundly.Three thousand pounds isn't much of a sum of money for your father to have given you.'
'And he paid the election bill;--didn't he?'
'He has been complaining of that behind my back,--has he? Ididn't ask him for it, he offered it.I wasn't such a fool as to refuse, but he needn't bring that up as a grievance to you.'
'It wasn't brought up as a grievance.I was saying that your standing had been a heavy expenditure--'
'Why did you say so? What made you talk about it at all? Why should you be discussing my affairs behind my back?'
'To my own father! And that too when you are telling me every day that I am to induce him to help you.'
'Not by complaining that I am poor.But how did it all begin?'
She had to think for a moment before she could recollect how it did begin.'There has been something,' he said, 'which you are ashamed to tell me.'
'There is nothing I am ashamed to tell you.There never has been and never will be anything.' And she stood up as she spoke, with open eyes and extended nostrils.'Whatever may come, however wretched it may be, I shall not be ashamed of myself.'
'But of me!'
'Why do you say so? Why do you try to make unhappiness between us?'
'You have been talking of--my poverty.'
'My father asked why you should go to Dovercourt,--and whether it was because it would save expense.'
'You want to go somewhere?'
'Not at all.I am contented to stay in London.But I said that Ithought the expense had a good deal to do with it.Of course it has.'
'Where do you want to be taken? I suppose Dovercourt is not fashionable.'
'I want nothing.'
'If you are thinking of travelling abroad, I can't spare the time.It isn't an affair of money, and you had no business to say so.I thought of the place because it is quiet and because Ican get up and down easily.I am sorry that I ever came to live in this house.'
'Why do you say that, Ferdinand?'
'Because you and your father make cabals behind my back.If there is anything I hate it is that kind of thing.'
'You are very unjust,' she said to him sobbing.'I have never caballed.I have never done anything against you.Of course papa ought to know.'
'Why ought he to know? Why is your father to have the right of inquiry into all my affairs?'
'Because you want his assistance.It is only natural.You always tell me to get him to assist you.He spoke to me kindly, saying that he would like to know how things are.'
'Then he won't know.As for wanting his assistance, of course Iwant the fortune which he ought to give to you.He is a man of the world enough to know that as I am in business capital must be useful to me.I should have thought that you would understand as much as that yourself.'
'I do understand it, I suppose.'
'Then why don't you act as my friend rather than his? Why don't you take my part? It seems to me that you are much more his daughter than my wife.'
'That is most unfair.'
'If you had any pluck you would make him understand that for your sake he ought to say what he means to do, so that I might have the advantage of the fortune which I suppose he means to give you some day.If you had the slightest anxiety to help me you could influence him.Instead of that you talk to him about my poverty.
I don't want him to think that I am a pauper.That's not the way to get round a man like your father, who is rich himself and who thinks it a disgrace in other men not to be rich too.'
'I can't tell him in the same breath that you are rich and that you want money.'
'Money is the means by which men make money.If he was confident of my business he'd sell out his cash quick enough! It is because he has been taught to think that I am in a small way.
He'll find his mistake some day.'
'You won't speak to him then?'
'I don't say that at all.If I find that it will answer my own purpose I shall speak to him.But it would be very much easier to me if I could get you to be cordial in helping me.'
Emily by this time quite knew what such cordiality meant.He had been so free in his words to her that there could be no mistake.
He had instructed her to 'get round' her father.And now again he spoke of her influence over her father.Although her illusions were all melting away,--oh, so quickly vanishing,--still she knew that it was her duty to be true to her husband, and to be his wife rather than her father's daughter.But what could she say on his behalf, knowing nothing of his affairs? She had no idea what was his business, what was his income, what amount of money she ought to spend as his wife.As far as she could see,--and her common sense in seeing such things was good, --he had no regular income, and was justified in no expenditure.
On her own account she would ask for no information.She was too proud to request that from him which should be given without any request.But in her own defence she must tell him that she could use no influence with her father as she knew none of the circumstances by which her father would be guided.'I cannot tell you in the manner you mean,' she said, 'because I know nothing myself.'