“Yes; that is the reason why Stephen quits us. He only remained here until Sybil could keep my house, and that happy day is at hand.”
“That is a great compensation for the loss of your friend,” said Egremont.
“And yet she talks of flitting,” said Gerard, in a rather melancholy tone. “She hankers after the cloister. She has passed a still, sweet life in the convent here; the Superior is the sister of my employer and a very saint on earth; and Sybil knows nothing of the real world except its sufferings. No matter,” he added more cheerfully; “I would not have her take the veil rashly, but if I lose her it may be for the best. For the married life of a woman of our class in the present condition of our country is a lease of woe,” he added shaking his head, “slaves, and the slaves of slaves? Even woman’s spirit cannot stand against it; and it can bear against more than we can, master.”
“Your daughter is not made for the common cares of life,” said Egremont.
“We’ll not talk of them,” said Gerard. “Sybil has an English heart, and that’s not easily broken. And you, comrade, you are a traveller in these parts, eh?”
“A kind of traveller; something in the way of your friend Morley--connected with the press.”
“Indeed! a reporter, eh? I thought you had something about you a little more knowing than we provincials.”
“Yes; a reporter; they want information in London as to the real state of the country, and this time of the year, Parliament not sitting--Ah; I understand, a flying commission and a summer tour. Well, I often wish I were a penman; but I never could do it. I’ll read any day as long as you like, but that writing, I could never manage. My friend Morley is a powerful hand at it. His journal circulates a good deal about here; and if as I often tell him he would only sink his high-flying philosophy and stick to old English politics, he might make a property of it. You’ll like to know him?”
“And what first took you to the press, if I may ask!”
“Why--my father was a gentleman--“, said Egremont in a hesitating tone, “and I was a younger son.”
“Ah!” said Gerard, “that is as bad as being a woman.”
“I had no patrimony,” continued Egremont, “and I was obliged to work; I had no head I believe for the law; the church was not exactly in my way; and as for the army, how was I to advance without money or connexions! I had had some education, and so I thought I would turn it to account.”