“And not join my regiment again at all?”
“It is absurd that you should do so in your
present position. You should be here, and learn
the circumstances of the property before it becomes
your own. There can hardly be more than a year
or two left for the lesson.”
The Earl’s manner was very impressive.
He looked into his nephew’s face as he spoke,
and stood with his hand upon the young man’s
shoulder. But Fred Neville was a Neville all
over,—and the Nevilles had always chosen
to have their own way. He had not the power of
intellect nor the finished manliness which his brother
possessed; but he could be as obstinate as any Neville,—as
obstinate as his father had been, or his uncle.
And in this matter he had arguments which his uncle
could hardly answer on the spur of the moment.
No doubt he could sell out in proper course, but at
the present moment he was as much bound by military
law to return as would be any common soldier at the
expiration of his furlough. He must go back.
That at any rate was certain. And if his uncle
did not much mind it, he would prefer to remain with
his regiment till October.
Lord Scroope could not condescend to repeat his request,
or even again to allude to it. His whole manner
altered as he took his hand away from his nephew’s
shoulder. But still he was determined that there
should be no quarrel. As yet there was no ground
for quarrelling,—and by any quarrel the
injury to him would be much greater than any that could
befall the heir. He stood for a moment and then
he spoke again in a tone very different from that
he had used before. “I hope,” he said,—and
then he paused again; “I hope you know how very
much depends on your marrying in a manner suitable
to your position.”
“Quite so;—I think.”
“It is the one hope left to me to see you properly
settled in life.”
“Marriage is a very serious thing, uncle.
Suppose I were not to marry at all! Sometimes
I think my brother is much more like marrying than
I am.”
“You are bound to marry,” said the Earl
solemnly. “And you are specially bound
by every duty to God and man to make no marriage that
will be disgraceful to the position which you are
called upon to fill.”
“At any rate I will not do that,” said
Fred Neville proudly. From this the Earl took
some comfort, and then the interview was over.
On the day appointed by himself Fred left the Manor,
and his mother and brother went on the following day.
But after he was gone, on that same afternoon, Jack
Neville asked Sophie Mellerby to be his wife.
She refused him,—with all the courtesy
she knew how to use, but also with all the certainty.
And as soon as he had left the house she told Lady
Scroope what had happened.
Ardkill cottage.
