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Updated: May 17, 2025
She was weary of the long endeavour against fortune, now she would yield and let the tide of utter misery sweep over her like a sea to bear her away till at last it brought her to that oblivion in which perchance all things come right or are as though they had never been. She had scarcely spoken to her lover, Harold Quaritch, for some weeks.
The Squire also saw something of it, not being wanting in knowledge of the world, and after much cogitation and many solitary walks elected to leave matters alone for the present. He liked Colonel Quaritch, and thought that it would be a good thing for Ida to get married, though the idea of parting from her troubled his heart sorely.
For instance, Harold Quaritch though by this time he had gone so far as to freely admit to himself that he was utterly and hopelessly in love with Ida, in love with her with that settled and determined passion which sometimes strikes a man or woman in middle age certainly did not know that before the evening was out he would have declared his devotion with results that shall be made clear in their decent order.
Cossey is a crack shot, I daresay that I shall be nowhere; but I will shoot as well as I can." "Do you know, it is very feminine, but I would give anything to see you beat him?" and she nodded and laughed, whereupon Harold Quaritch vowed in his heart that if it in him lay he would not disappoint her.
Then turning to Harold she began to apologise to him. "I don't know what sort of dinner you will get, Colonel Quaritch," she said; "it is so provoking of my father; he never gives one the least warning when he is going to ask any one to dinner." "Not at all not at all," he answered hurriedly. "It is I who ought to apologise, coming down on you like like " "A wolf on the fold," suggested Ida.
Apparently she interpreted his answer in the affirmative. At any rate she covered her face with her hands. "What would you do, Colonel Quaritch, if you had killed the only thing you loved in the whole world?" she asked dreamily. "Oh, what am I saying? I am off my head. Leave me go and tell Ida; it will be good news for Ida."
He could not quarrel with Ida's decision, shocking as it was, for the simple reason that he knew in his heart she was acting rightly and even nobly. But, oh, the thought of it made him mad. It is probable that to a man of imagination and deep feeling hell itself can invent no more hideous torture than he must undergo in the position in which Harold Quaritch found himself.
For a moment Harold Quaritch looked on bewildered, not in the least understanding what Ida meant, and then he followed the impulse common to mankind in similar circumstances and took her in his arms.
"I thought so too," he answered, "until yesterday, when I was so happy as to be undeceived. I ought to tell you, by the way," he went on, running away from the covert falsehood in his last words as quickly as he could, "how much I regret I was the cause of that scene with Colonel Quaritch, more especially as I find that there is an explanation of the story against him.
"Oh," said the Squire, "I have nothing to say against Quaritch, indeed I like the man, but I suppose that if he has 600 pounds a year, it is every sixpence he can count on." "I had rather marry him upon six hundred a year than Edward Cossey upon sixty thousand." "Ah, yes, I have heard young women talk like that before, though perhaps they think differently afterwards.
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