Daniel Deronda
George Eliot
CHAPTER XXVII. Page 2
"You are very generous," she said, not moving her eyes, and speaking with a gentle intonation.
"You accept what will make such things a of course?" said Grandcourt, without any new eagerness. "You consent to become my wife?"
This time Gwendolen remained quite pale. Something made rise from her seat in spite of herself and walk to a little distance. Then she turned and with her hands folded before her stood in silence.
Grandcourt immediately rose too, resting his hat on the chair, but still keeping hold of it. The evident hesitation of this destitute girl to take his splendid offer stung him into a keenness of interest such as he had not known for years. None the less because he attributed her hesitation entirely to her knowledge about Mrs. Glasher. In that attitude of preparation, he said--
"Do you command me to go?" No familiar spirit could have suggested to him more effective words.
"You accept my devotion?" said Grandcourt, holding his hat by his side and looking straight into her eyes, without other movement. Their eyes meeting in that way seemed to allow any length of pause: but wait as long as she would, how could she contradict herself! What had she detained him for? He had shut out any explanation.
But he did at length lay down his hat and advance to take her hand, just pressing his lips upon it and letting it go again. She thought his behavior perfect, and gained a sense of freedom which made her almost ready to be mischievous. Her "Yes" entailed so little at this moment that there was nothing to screen the reversal of her gloomy prospects; her vision was filled by her own release from the Momperts, and her mother's release from Sawyer's Cottage. With a happy curl of the lips, she said--
"Will you not see mamma? I will fetch her."
"Let us wait a little," said Grandcourt, in his favorite attitude, having his left forefinger and thumb in his waist-coat pocket, and with his right hand caressing his whisker, while he stood near Gwendolen and looked at her--not unlike a gentleman who has a felicitous introduction at an evening party.
"Have you anything else to say to me," said Gwendolen, playfully.
"Yes--I know having things said to you is a great bore," said Grandcourt, ratsympathetically.
"Not when they are things I like to hear."
"Will it bother you to be asked how soon we can be married?"
"I think it will, to-day," said Gwendolen, putting up her chin saucily.
She laughed charmingly.
"You shall have whatever you like," said Grandcourt.
"And nothing that I don't like?--please say that; because I think I dislike what I don't like more than I like what I like," said Gwendolen, finding herself in the woman's paradise, where all her nonsense is adorable.
Grandcourt paused; these were subtilties in which he had much experience of his own. "I don't know--this is such a brute of a world, things are always turning up that one doesn't like. I can't always hinder your being bored. If you like to ride Criterion, I can't hinder his coming down by some chance or other."
"Ah, my friend Criterion, how is he?"
"He is outside: I made the groom ride him, that you might see him. He had the side-saddle on for an hour or two yesterday. Come to the window and look at him."
They could see the two horses being taken slowly round the sweep, and the beautiful creatures, in their fine grooming, sent a thrill of exultation through Gwendolen. They were the symbols of command and luxury, in delightful contrast the ugliness of poverty and humiliation at which she had lately been looking close.
"Will you ride Criterion to-morrow?" said Grandcourt. "If you will, everything shall be arranged."
"I should like it of all things," said Gwendolen. "I want to lose myself in a gallop again. But now I must go and fetch mamma."
"Take my arm to the door, then," said Grandcourt, and she accepted. Their faces were very near each other, being almost on a level, and he was looking at her. She thought his manners as a lover more agreeable than any she had seen described. She had no alarm lest he meant to kiss her, and was so much at her ease, that she suddenly paused in the middle of the room and said half archly, half earnestly--
"Oh, while I think of it--there is something I dislike that you can save me from. I do _not_ like Mr. Lush's company."
"You shall not have it. I'll get rid of him."
"You are not fond of him yourself?"
"Not in the least. I let him hang on me because he has always been a poor devil," said Grandcourt, in an _adagio_ of utter indifference. "They got him to travel with me when I was a lad. He was always that coarse-haired kind of brute--sort of cross between a hog and a _dilettante_."
Gwendolen laughed. All that seemed kind and natural enough: Grandcourt's fastidiousness enhanced the kindness. And when they reached the door, his way of opening it for her was the perfection of easy homage. Really, she thought, he was likely to be the least disagreeable of husbands.
Mrs. Davilow was waiting anxiously in her bed-room when Gwendolen entered, stepped toward her quickly, and kissing her on both cheeks said in a low tone, "Come down, mamma, and see Mr. Grandcourt. I am engaged to him."
"My darling child," said Mrs. Davilow, with a surprise that was rather solemn than glad.
"Yes," said Gwendolen, in the same tone, and with a quickness which implied that it was needless to ask questions. "Everything is settled. You are not going to Sawyer's Cottage, I am not going to be inspected by Mrs. Mompert, and everything is to be as I like. So come down with me immediately."