The Way We Live Now (World's Classics Series). Anthony Trollope
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When the Melmottes went from Caversham the house was very desolate. The task of entertaining these people was indeed over, and had the return to London been fixed for a certain near day, there would have been comfort at any rate among the ladies of the family. But this was so far from being the case that the Thursday and Friday passed without anything being settled, and dreadful fears began to fill the minds of Lady Pomona and Sophia Longestaffe. Georgiana was also impatient, but she asserted boldly that treachery, such as that which her mother and sister contemplated, was impossible. Their father, she thought, would not dare to propose it. On each of these days, — three or four times daily, — hints were given and questions were asked, but without avail. Mr Longestaffe would not consent to have a day fixed till he had received some particular letter, and would not even listen to the suggestion of a day. “I suppose we can go at any rate on Tuesday,” Georgiana said on the Friday evening. “I don’t know why you should suppose anything of the kind,” the father replied. Poor Lady Pomona was urged by her daughters to compel him to name a day; but Lady Pomona was less audacious in urging the request than her younger child, and at the same time less anxious for its completion. On the Sunday morning before they went to church there was a great discussion upstairs. The Bishop of Elmham was going to preach at Caversham church, and the three ladies were dressed in their best London bonnets. They were in their mother’s room, having just completed the arrangements of their churchgoing toilet. It was supposed that the expected letter had arrived. Mr Longestaffe had certainly received a despatch from his lawyer, but had not as yet vouchsafed any reference to its contents. He had been more than ordinarily silent at breakfast, and, — so Sophia asserted, — more disagreeable than ever. The question had now arisen especially in reference to their bonnets. “You might as well wear them,” said Lady Pomona, “for I am sure you will not be in London again this year.”
“You don’t mean it, mamma,” said Sophia.
“I do, my dear. He looked like it when he put those papers back into his pocket. I know what his face means so well.”
“It is not possible,” said Sophia. “He promised, and he got us to have those horrid people because he promised.”
“Well, my dear, if your father says that we can’t go back, I suppose we must take his word for it. It is he must decide of course. What he meant I suppose was, that he would take us back if he could.”
“Mamma!” shouted Georgiana. Was there to be treachery not only on the part of their natural adversary, who, adversary though he was, had bound himself to terms by a treaty, but treachery also in their own camp!
“My dear, what can we do?” said Lady Pomona.
“Do!” Georgiana was now going to speak out plainly. “Make him understand that we are not going to be sat upon like that. I’ll do something, if that’s going to be the way of it. If he treats me like that I’ll run off with the first man that will take me, let him be who it may.”
“Don’t talk like that, Georgiana, unless you wish to kill me.”
“I’ll break his heart for him. He does not care about us, — not the least, — whether we are happy or miserable; but he cares very much about the family name. I’ll tell him that I’m not going to be a slave. I’ll marry a London tradesman before I’ll stay down here.” The younger Miss Longestaffe was lost in passion at the prospect before her.
“Oh, Georgey, don’t say such horrid things as that,” pleaded her sister.
“It’s all very well for you, Sophy. You’ve got George Whitstable.”
“I haven’t got George Whitstable.”
“Yes, you have, and your fish is fried. Dolly does just what he pleases, and spends money as fast as he likes. Of course it makes no difference to you, mamma, where you are.”
“You are very unjust,” said Lady Pomona, wailing, “and you say horrid things.”
“I ain’t unjust at all. It doesn’t matter to you. And Sophy is the same as settled. But I’m to be sacrificed! How am I to see anybody down here in this horrid hole? Papa promised and he must keep his word.”
Then there came to them a loud voice calling to them from the hall. “Are any of you coming to church, or are you going to keep the carriage waiting all day?” Of course they were all going to church. They always did go to church when they were at Caversham; and would more especially do so to-day, because of the bishop and because of the bonnets. They trooped down into the hall and into the carriage, Lady Pomona leading the way. Georgiana stalked along, passing her father at the front door without condescending to look at him. Not a word was spoken on the way to church, or on the way home. During the service Mr Longestaffe stood up in the corner of his pew, and repeated the responses in a loud voice. In performing this duty he had been an example to the parish all his life. The three ladies knelt on their hassocks in the most becoming fashion, and sat during the sermon without the slightest sign either of weariness or of attention. They did not collect the meaning of any one combination of sentences. It was nothing to them whether the bishop had or had not a meaning. Endurance of that kind was their strength. Had the bishop preached for forty-five minutes instead of half an hour they would not have complained. It was the same kind of endurance which enabled Georgiana to go on from year to year waiting for a husband of the proper sort. She could put up with any amount of tedium if only the fair chance of obtaining ultimate relief were not denied to her. But to be kept at Caversham all the summer would be as bad as hearing a bishop preach for ever! After the service they came back to lunch, and that meal also was eaten in silence. When it was over the head of the family put himself into the dining-room armchair, evidently meaning to be left alone there. In that case he would have meditated upon his troubles till he went to sleep, and would have thus got through the afternoon with comfort. But this was denied to him. The two daughters remained steadfast while the things were being removed; and Lady Pomona, though she made one attempt to leave the room, returned when she found that her daughters would not follow her. Georgiana had told her sister that she meant to “have it out” with her father, and Sophia had of course remained in the room in obedience to her sister’s behest. When the last tray had been taken out, Georgiana began. “Papa, don’t you think you could settle now when we are to go back to town? Of course we want to know about engagements and all that. There is Lady Monogram’s party on Wednesday. We promised to be there ever so long ago.”
“You had better write to Lady Monogram and say you can’t keep your engagement.”
“But why not, papa? We could go up on Wednesday morning.”
“You can’t do anything of the kind.”
“But, my dear, we should all like to have a day fixed,” said Lady Pomona. Then there was a pause. Even Georgiana, in her present state of mind, would have accepted some distant, even some undefined time, as a compromise.
“Then you can’t have a day fixed,” said Mr Longestaffe.
“How long do you suppose that we shall be kept here?” said Sophia, in a low constrained voice.
“I do not know what you mean by being kept here. This is your home, and this is where you may make up your minds to live.”
“But we are to go back?” demanded Sophia. Georgiana stood by in silence, listening, resolving, and biding her time.
“You’ll not return to London this season,” said Mr Longestaffe, turning himself abruptly to a newspaper which he held in his hands.
“Do you mean that that is settled?” said Lady Pomona. “I mean to say that that is settled,” said Mr Longestaffe. Was there ever treachery like this! The indignation in Georgiana’s mind approached almost to virtue as she thought of her father’s falseness. She would not have left town at all but for that promise. She would not have contaminated herself with the Melmottes but for that promise. And now she was told that the promise was to be absolutely broken, when it was no longer possible that