Book 4 Chapter 8
We left Sybil and Egremont just at the moment that Gerard arrived at thevery threshold which they had themselves reached.
"Ah! my father," exclaimed Sybil, and then with a faint blush of whichshe was perhaps unconscious, she added, as if apprehensive Gerard wouldnot recall his old companion, "you remember Mr Franklin?"
"This gentleman and myself had the pleasure of meeting yesterday,"said Gerard embarrassed, while Egremont himself changed colour and wasinfinitely confused. Sybil felt surprised that her father shouldhave met Mr Franklin and not have mentioned a circumstance naturallyinteresting to her. Egremont was about to speak when the street-door wasopened. And were they to part again, and no explanation? And was Sybilto be left with her father, who was evidently in no haste, perhapshad no great tendency, to give that explanation? Every feeling of aningenuous spirit urged Egremont personally to terminate this prolongedmisconception.
"You will permit me, I hope," he said, appealing as much to Gerard as tohis daughter, "to enter with you for a few moments."
It was not possible to resist such a request, yet it was conceded on thepart of Gerard with no cordiality. So they entered the large gloomyhail of the house, and towards the end of a long passage Gerard opened adoor, and they all went into a spacious melancholy room, situate at theback of the house, and looking upon a small square plot of dank grass,in the midst of which rose a very weather-stained Cupid, with one armbroken, and the other raised in the air with a long shell to its mouth.It seemed that in old days it might have been a fountain. At the end ofthe plot the blind side of a house offered a high wall which had oncebeen painted in fresco. Though much of the coloured plaster had crackedand peeled away, and all that remained was stained and faded, still sometraces of the original design might yet be detected: festive wreaths,the colonnades and perspective of a palace.
The wails of the room itself were waincsotted in pannels of dark-stainedwood; the window-curtains were of coarse green worsted, and encrustedwith dust so ancient and irremovable, that it presented almost alava-like appearance; the carpet that had once been bright and showy,was entirely threadbare, and had become grey with age. There wereseveral heavy mahogany arm-chairs in the room, a Pembroke table, and animmense unwieldy sideboard, garnished with a few wine-glasses of a deepblue colour. Over the lofty uncouth mantel was a portrait of the Marquisof Granby, which might have been a sign, and opposite to him, over thesideboard, was a large tawdry-coloured print, by Bunbury, of Ranelagh inits most festive hour. The general appearance of the room however thoughdingy, was not squalid: and what with its spaciousness, its extremerepose, and the associations raised by such few images as it didsuggest, the impression on the mind of the spectator was far fromunpleasing, partaking indeed of that vague melancholy which springsfrom the contemplation of the past, and which at all times softens thespirit.
Gerard walked to the window and looked at the grass-plot; Sybil seatingherself, invited their guest to follow her example; Egremont, notwithout agitation, seemed suddenly to make an effort to collect himself,and then, in a voice not distinguished by its accustomed clearness,he said, "I explained yesterday to one who I hope I may still call myfriend, why I assumed a name to which I have no right."
Sybil started a little, slightly stared, but did not speak.
"I should be happy if you also would give me credit, in taking thatstep, at least for motives of which I need not be ashamed; even," headded in a hesitating voice, "even if you deemed my conduct indiscreet."
Their eyes met: astonishment was imprinted on the countenance of Sybil,but she uttered not a word; and her father, whose back was turned tothem, did not move.
"I was told," continued Egremont, "that an impassable gulf divided theRich from the Poor; I was told that the Privileged and the Peopleformed Two Nations, governed by different laws, influenced by differentmanners, with no thoughts or sympathies in common with an innateinability of mutual comprehension. I believed that if this were indeedthe case, the ruin of our common country was at hand; I would haveendeavoured, feebly perchance, but not without zeal, to resist such acatastrophe; I possessed a station which entailed on me some portion ofits responsibility: to obtain that knowledge which could alone qualifyme for beneficial action, I resolved to live without suspicion among myfellow-subjects who were estranged from me; even void of all celebrityas I am, I could not have done that without suspicion, had I been known;they would have recoiled from my class and my name, as you yourselfrecoiled, Sybil, when they were once accidentally mentioned before you.These are the reasons, these the feelings, which impelled, I will notsay justified, me to pass your threshold under a feigned name. I entreatyou to judge kindly of my conduct; to pardon me: and not to make me feelthe bitterness that I have forfeited the good opinion of one for whom,under all circumstances and in all situations, I must ever feel thehighest conceivable respect,--I would say a reverential regard."
His tones of passionate emotion ceased. Sybil, with a countenancebeautiful and disturbed, gazed at him for an instant, and seemed aboutto speak, but her trembling lips refused the office; then with aneffort, turning to Gerard, she said, "My father, I am amazed; tell me,then, who is this gentleman who addresses me?"
"The brother of Lord Marney, Sybil," said Gerard, turning to her.
"The brother of Lord Marney!" repeated Sybil, with an air almost ofstupor.
"Yes," said Egremont: "a member of that family of sacrilege, of thoseoppressors of the people, whom you have denounced to me with suchwithering scorn."
The elbow of Sybil rested on the arm of her chair, and her cheek uponher hand; as Egremont said these words she shaded her face, which wasthus entirely unseen: for some moments there was silence. Then lookingup with an expression grave but serene, and as if she had just emergedfrom some deep thinking, Sybil said, "I am sorry for my words; sorry forthe pain I unconsciously gave you; sorry indeed for all that has past:and that my father has lost a pleasant friend."
"And why should he be lost?" said Egremont mournfully, and yet withtenderness. "Why should we not still befriends?"
"Oh, sir!" said Sybil, haughtily; "I am one of those who believe thegulf is impassable. Yes," she added, slightly but with singulargrace waving her hands, and somewhat turning away her head, "utterlyimpassable."
There are tumults of the mind when like the great convulsions of natureall seems anarchy and returning chaos, yet often in those moments ofvast disturbance, as in the material strife itself, some new principleof order, or some new impulse of conduct, develops itself, and controlsand regulates and brings to an harmonious consequence, passions andelements which seemed only to threaten despair and subversion. So it waswith Egremont. He looked for a moment in despair upon this maiden walledout from sympathy by prejudices and convictions more impassable than allthe mere consequences of class. He looked for a moment, but only fora moment, in despair. He found in his tortured spirit energiesthat responded to the exigency of the occasion. Even the otherwiseembarrassing presence of Gerard would not have prevented--but just atthis moment the door opened, and Morley and another person entered theroom.