Captain Martin (highly respected in the army) then
unhesitatingly said that it appeared to him that his--hem!--sister was
not called upon to understand the young man too distinctly, and that
she might lead him on--I am doubtful whether "lead him on" was Captain
Martin's exact expression: indeed I think he said tolerate him--on her
father's--I should say, brother's--account. I hardly know how I have
strayed into this story. I suppose it has been through being unable to
account for Chivery; but as to the connection between the two, I don't
see--' His voice died away, as if she could not bear the pain of hearing him,
and her hand had gradually crept to his lips. For a little while there
was a dead silence and stillness; and he remained shrunk in his chair,
and she remained with her arm round his neck and her head bowed down
upon his shoulder.
His supper was cooking in a saucepan on the fire, and, when she moved,
it was to make it ready for him on the table. He took his usual seat,
she took hers, and he began his meal. They did not, as yet, look at one
another. By little and little he began; laying down his knife and fork
with a noise, taking things up sharply, biting at his bread as if he
were offended with it, and in other similar ways showing that he was out
of sorts. At length he pushed his plate from him, and spoke aloud; with
the strangest inconsistency.
'What does it matter whether I eat or starve? What does it matter
whether such a blighted life as mine comes to an end, now, next week, or
next year? What am I worth to anyone? A poor prisoner, fed on alms and
broken victuals; a squalid, disgraced wretch!'
'Father, father!' As he rose she went on her knees to him, and held up
her hands to him. 'Amy,' he went on in a suppressed voice, trembling violently, and
looking at her as wildly as if he had gone mad. 'I tell you, if you
could see me as your mother saw me, you wouldn't believe it to be the
creature you have only looked at through the bars of this cage. I was
young, I was accomplished, I was good-looking, I was independent--by God
I was, child!--and people sought me out, and envied me.
Envied me!' 'Dear father!' She tried to take down the shaking arm that he flourished
in the air, but he resisted, and put her hand away. 'If I had but a picture of myself in those days, though it was ever so
ill done, you would be proud of it, you would be proud of it. But I have
no such thing. Now, let me be a warning! Let no man,' he cried, looking
haggardly about, 'fail to preserve at least that little of the times of
his prosperity and respect. Let his children have that clue to what he
was. Unless my face, when I am dead, subsides into the long departed
look--they say such things happen, I don't know--my children will have
never seen me.' 'Father, father!' 'O despise me, despise me!