Part 33 (1/2)
”But then there is so much illness.”
”I always insure.”
Clara perceived that the subject of the cattle didn't suit the present occasion. When he had before been at Belton he had liked nothing so much as talking about the cattle-sheds, and the land, and the kind of animals which would suit the place; but now the novelty of the thing was gone,--and the farmer did not wish to talk of his farm. In her anxiety to find a topic which would not be painful, she went from the cattle to the cow. ”You can't think what a pet Bessy has been with us. And she seems to think that she is privileged to go everywhere, and do anything.”
”I hope they have taken care that she has had winter food.”
”Winter food! Why Pudge, and all the Pudges, and all the family in the house, and all your cattle would have to want, before Bessy would be allowed to miss a meal. Pudge always says, with his sententious shake of the head, that the young squire was very particular about Bessy.”
”Those Alderneys want a little care,--that's all.”
Bessy was of no better service to Clara in her present difficulty than the less aristocratic herd of common cattle. There was a pause for a moment, and then she began again. ”How did you leave your sister, Will?”
”Much the same as usual. I think she has borne the first of the cold weather better than she did last year.”
”I do so wish that I knew her.”
”Perhaps you will some day. But I don't suppose that you ever will.”
”Why not?”
”It's not likely that you'll ever come to Plaistow now;--and Mary never leaves it except to go to my uncle's.”
Clara instantly knew that he had heard of her engagement, though she could not imagine from what source he had heard it. There was something in the tone of his voice,--something especially in the expression of that word ”now,” which told her that it must be so.
”I should be so glad to go there if I could,” she said, with that special hypocrisy which belongs to women, and is allowed to them; ”but, of course, I cannot leave papa in his present state.”
”And if you did leave him you would not go to Plaistow.”
”Not unless you and Mary asked me.”
”And you wouldn't if we did. How could you?”
”What do you mean, Will? It seems as though you were almost savage to me.”
”Am I? Well;--I feel savage, but not to you.”
”Nor to any one, I hope, belonging to me.” She knew that it was all coming; that the whole subject of her future life must now be discussed; and she began to fear that the discussion might not be easy. But she did not know how to give it a direction. She feared that he would become angry, and yet she knew not why. He had accepted his own rejection tranquilly, and could hardly take it as an offence that she should now be engaged to Captain Aylmer.
”Mr. Green has told me,” said he, ”that you are going to be married.”
”How could Mr. Green have known?”
”He did know;--at least I suppose he knew, for he told me.”
”How very odd.”
”I suppose it is true?” Clara did not make any immediate answer, and then he repeated the question. ”I suppose it is true?”
”It is true that I am engaged.”