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Updated: May 10, 2025
She swept past him in a transport of silent fury, flashing upon him one look of indignation which Wyvis Brand did not easily forget. It even deafened him for a moment to the sneering comment of Mr. Strangways, which fell on Janetta's ears just as she was leaving the room. "That's a regular granny's boy. Well for him if he always gets a pretty girl to help him out of a difficulty."
"Well, that is my own fault," said Wyvis, lightly but bitterly. "If it had not been for my own youthful folly I shouldn't be burdened as I am now. I have no one but myself to thank." "Yes, yes, it was my fault. I pressed you to do it to tie yourself for life to the woman who has made you miserable!" said Mrs. Brand, in a tone of despairing self-accusation.
She tried, in her difficult, frozen way, to say something cordial. "I am very pleased to see you," she faltered. "You must excuse me if I did not understand at first. Wyvis did not tell me." Then she sank into her chair again, more out of physical weakness than from any real intention to seat herself.
Wyvis was far more depressed, and far more deeply buried in the contemplation of his difficulties, than anybody knew, and it completely escaped his memory until afterwards that he ought to have offered Miss Colwyn an escort.
That Margaret should accept the offered admiration in her usual serene manner was equally to be expected. But that either of them should be unwise enough to give rise to idle gossip, about so natural a state of mind was what Janetta could not understand. It was not Margaret's fault; she was very sure of that. It must be Wyvis Brand's.
She had no prospects of prosperity; she could not expect to live at the Red House for ever; and yet, when Wyvis came home and she had to go which, of course, must happen some time, since Mrs. Brand was growing old and infirm, and Julian would have to go to school what would she do? She asked herself this question many times, and could never find a very satisfactory answer.
"But if he had quite reformed," Margaret murmured. "My darling, what difference would it make? I am sure I do not know why we discuss the matter: it is a little too ridiculous to speak of it seriously. Your father will give Mr. Wyvis Brand his answer, and in such a way that he will not care to repeat his presumptuous and insolent proposal, and there will be an end of it.
Brand started up; Margaret turned very pale and drew back, while Wyvis came closer to her and put his arm round her with an air of protective defiance. Janetta drew a quick breath of relief.
But Wyvis Brand looked as if it would take a great deal to move him. "Where do you come from?" said Mr. Brand, sternly. "From over the sea." "That's no answer. Where from? what place?" The boy looked at him without answering. "Are you dumb?" said Wyvis Brand, harshly. "Or have you not been taught what to say to that question? Where do you come from, I say?" Mrs.
For himself, he thought of immigrating: he was heartily sick of modern civilization, and believed that he would more easily find friends and fellow-workers amongst the Red Skins of the Choctaw Indians than in "County" drawing-rooms. And only by this touch did Wyvis betray the bitterness that filled his heart. Cuthbert rushed up to town at once in a white heat of indignation.
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