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Miss Mackenzie. Anthony TrollopeЧитать онлайн книгу.

Miss Mackenzie - Anthony Trollope


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of the kind; but she did not know how to tell him either by words or looks that such was the case. And, perhaps, though the impertinence was almost unendurable, the idea conveyed was not altogether so grievous; it had certainly never hitherto occurred to her that she might become a second Mrs. Stumfold; but, after all, why not? What she wanted was simply this, that something of interest should be added to her life. Why should not she also work in the vineyard, in the open quasiclerical vineyard of the Lord's people, and also in the private vineyard of some one of the people's pastors? Mr. Rubb was very impertinent, but it might, perhaps, be worth her while to think of what he said. As regarded Mr. Maguire, the gentleman whose name had been specially mentioned, it was quite true that he did squint awfully.

      "Mr. Rubb," said she, "if you please, I'd rather not talk about such things as that."

      "Nevertheless, what I say is true, Miss Mackenzie; I hope you don't take it amiss that I venture to feel an interest about you."

      "Oh! no," said she; "not that I suppose you do feel any special interest about me."

      "But indeed I do, and isn't it natural? If you will remember that your only brother is the oldest friend that I have in the world, how can it be otherwise? Of course he is much older than me, and very much older than you, Miss Mackenzie."

      "Just twelve years," said she, very stiffly.

      "I thought it had been more, but in that case you and I are nearly of an age. As that is so, how can I fail to feel an interest about you? I have neither mother, nor sister, nor wife of my own; a sister, indeed, I have, but she's married at Singapore, and I have not seen her for seventeen years."

      "Indeed."

      "No, not for seventeen years; and the heart does crave for some female friend, Miss Mackenzie."

      "You ought to get a wife, Mr. Rubb."

      "That's what your brother always says. 'Samuel,' he said to me just before I left town, 'you're settled with us now; your father has as good as given up to you his share of the business, and you ought to get married.' Now, Miss Mackenzie, I wouldn't take that sort of thing from any man but your brother; it's very odd that you should say exactly the same thing too."

      "I hope I have not offended you."

      "Offended me! no, indeed, I'm not such a fool as that. I'd sooner know that you took an interest in me than any woman living. I would, indeed. I dare say you don't think much of it, but when I remember that the names of Rubb and Mackenzie have been joined together for more than twenty years, it seems natural to me that you and I should be friends."

      Miss Mackenzie, in the few moments which were allowed to her for reflection before she was obliged to answer, again admitted to herself that he spoke the truth. If there was any fault in the matter the fault was with her brother Tom, who had joined the name of Mackenzie with the name of Rubb in the first instance. Where was this young man to look for a female friend if not to his partner's family, seeing that he had neither wife nor mother of his own, nor indeed a sister, except one out at Singapore, who was hardly available for any of the purposes of family affection? And yet it was hard upon her. It was through no negligence on her part that poor Mr. Rubb was so ill provided. "Perhaps it might have been so if I had continued to live in London," said Miss Mackenzie; "but as I live at Littlebath—" Then she paused, not knowing how to finish her sentence.

      "What difference does that make? The distance is nothing if you come to think of it. Your hall door is just two hours and a quarter from our place of business in the New Road; and it's one pound five and nine if you go by first-class and cabs, or sixteen and ten if you put up with second-class and omnibuses. There's no other way of counting. Miles mean nothing now-a-days."

      "They don't mean much, certainly."

      "They mean nothing. Why, Miss Mackenzie, I should think it no trouble at all to run down and consult you about anything that occurred, about any matter of business that weighed at all heavily, if nothing prevented me except distance. Thirty shillings more than does it all, with a return ticket, including a bit of lunch at the station."

      "Oh! and as for that—"

      "I know what you mean, Miss Mackenzie, and I shall never forget how kind you were to offer me refreshment when I was here before."

      "But, Mr. Rubb, I hope you won't think of doing such a thing. What good could I do you? I know nothing about business; and really, to tell the truth, I should be most unwilling to interfere—that is, you know, to say anything about anything of the kind."

      "I only meant to point out that the distance is nothing. And as to what you were advising me about getting married—"

      "I didn't mean to advise you, Mr. Rubb!"

      "I thought you said so."

      "But, of course, I did not intend to discuss such a matter seriously."

      "It's a most serious subject to me, Miss Mackenzie."

      "No doubt; but it's one I can't know anything about. Men in business generally do find, I think, that they get on better when they are married."

      "Yes, they do."

      "That's all I meant to say, Mr. Rubb."

      After this he sat silent for a few minutes, and I am inclined to think that he was weighing in his mind the expediency of asking her to become Mrs. Rubb, on the spur of the moment. But if so, his mind finally gave judgment against the attempt, and in giving such judgment his mind was right. He would certainly have so startled her by the precipitancy of such a proposition, as to have greatly endangered the probability of any further intimacy with her. As it was, he changed the conversation, and began to ask questions as to the welfare of his partner's daughter. At this period of the day Susanna was at school, and he was informed that she would not be home till the evening. Then he plucked up courage and begged to be allowed to come again—just to look in at eight o'clock, so that he might see Susanna. He could not go back to London comfortably, unless he could give some tidings of Susanna to the family in Gower Street. What was she to do? Of course she was obliged to ask him to drink tea with them. "That would be so pleasant," he said; and Miss Mackenzie owned to herself that the gratification expressed in his face as he spoke was very becoming.

      When Susanna came home she did not seem to know much of Mr. Rubb, junior, or to care much about him. Old Mr. Rubb lived, she knew, near the place of business in the New Road, and sometimes he came to Gower Street, but nobody liked him. She didn't remember that she had ever seen Mr. Rubb, junior, at her mother's house but once, when he came to dinner. When she was told that Mr. Rubb was very anxious to see her, she chucked up her head and said that the man was a goose.

      He came, and in a very few minutes he had talked over Susanna. He brought her a little present—a work-box—which he had bought for her at Littlebath; and though the work-box itself did not altogether avail, it paved the way for civil words, which were more efficacious. On this occasion he talked more to his partner's daughter than to his partner's sister, and promised to tell her mamma how well she was looking, and that the air of Littlebath had brought roses to her cheeks.

      "I think it is a healthy place," said Miss Mackenzie.

      "I'm quite sure it is," said Mr. Rubb. "And you like Mrs. Crammer's school, Susanna?"

      She would have preferred to have been called Miss Mackenzie, but was not disposed to quarrel with him on the point.

      "Yes, I like it very well," she said. "The other girls are very nice; and if one must go to school, I suppose it's as good as any other school."

      "Susanna thinks that going to school at all is rather a nuisance," said Miss Mackenzie.

      "You'd think so too, aunt, if you had to practise every day for an hour in the same room with four other pianos. It's my belief that I shall hate the sound of a piano the longest day that I shall live."

      "I suppose it's the same with all young ladies," said Mr. Rubb.

      "It's the same with them all at Mrs. Crammer's. There isn't one there that does not hate it."

      "But


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