"Wilkie Collins - The New Magdalen" - читать интересную книгу автора (Collins Wilkie)

aunt--who regarded his views in politics and religion with the strongest
aversion--but for his marked resemblance to his mother. This pleaded for him
with the old lady, aided as it was by the pride that she secretly felt in the
early celebrity which the young clergyman had achieved as a writer and a
preacher. Thanks to these mitigating circumstances, and to Julian's
inexhaustible good-humor, the aunt and the nephew generally met on friendly
terms. Apart from what she called "his detestable opinions," Lady Janet was
sufficiently interested in Julian to feel some curiosity about the mysterious
"lady" mentioned in the letter. Had he determined to settle in life? Was his
choice already made? And if so, would it prove to be a choice acceptable to the
family? Lady Janet's bright face showed signs of doubt as she asked herself that
last question. Julian's liberal views were capable of leading him to dangerous
extremes. His aunt shook her head ominously as she rose from the sofa and
advanced to the library door.
"Grace," she said, pausing and turning round, "I have a note to write to my
nephew. I shall be back directly."
Mercy approached her, from the opposite extremity of the room, with an
exclamation of surprise.
"Your nephew?" she repeated. "Your ladyship never told me you had a nephew."
Lady Janet laughed. "I must have had it on the tip of my tongue to tell you,
over and over again," she said. "But we have had so many things to talk
about--and, to own the truth, my nephew is not one of my favorite subjects of
conversation. I don't mean that I dislike him; I detest his principles, my dear,
that's all. However, you shall form your own opinion of him; he is coming to see
me to-day. Wait here till I return; I have something more to say about Horace."
Mercy opened the library door for her, closed it again, and walked slowly to and
fro alone in the room, thinking.
Was her mind running on Lady Janet's nephew? No. Lady Janet's brief allusion to
her relative had not led her into alluding to him by his name. Mercy was still
as ignorant as ever that the preacher at the Refuge and the nephew of her
benefactress were one and the same man. Her memory was busy now with the tribute
which Lady Janet had paid to her at the outset of the interview between them:
"It is hardly too much to say, Grace, that I bless the day when you first came
to me." For the moment there was balm for her wounded spirit in the remembrance
of those words. Grace Roseberry herself could surely have earned no sweeter
praise than the praise that she had won. The next instant she was seized with a
sudden horror of her own successful fraud. The sense of her degradation had
never been so bitterly present to her as at that moment. If she could only
confess the truth--if she could innocently enjoy her harmless life at
Mablethorpe House --what a grateful, happy woman she might be! Was it possible
(if she made the confession) to trust to her own good conduct to plead her
excuse? No! Her calmer sense warned her that it was hopeless. The place she had
won--honestly won--in Lady Janet's estimation had been obtained by a trick.
Nothing could alter, nothing could excuse, that. She took out her handkerchief
and dashed away the useless tears that had gathered in her eyes, and tried to
turn her thoughts some other way. What was it Lady Janet had said on going into
the library? She had said she was coming back to speak about Horace. Mercy
guessed what the object was; she knew but too well what Horace wanted of her.
How was she to meet the emergency? In the name of Heaven, what was to be done?
Could she let the man who loved her--the man whom she loved--drift blindfold