Anthony Trollope: The Belton Estate

18. CHAPTER XVIII: MRS ASKERTON'S STORY (continued)

Clara sent back a promise by the messenger, and on the following morning she put on her hat and shawl, and started on her dreaded task. When she left the house she had not even yet quite made up her mind what she would do. At first she put her lover's letter into her pocket, so that she might have it for reference; but, on second thoughts, she replaced it in her desk, dreading lest she might be persuaded into showing or reading some part of it. There had come a sharp frost after the rain, and the ground was hard and dry. In order that she might gain some further last moment for thinking, she walked round, up among the rocks, instead of going straight to the cottage; and for a moment though the air was sharp with frost she sat upon the stone where she had been seated when her Cousin Will blurted out the misfortune of his heart. She sat there on purpose that she might think of him, and recall his figure, and the tones of his voice, and the look of his eyes, and the gesture of his face. What a man he was so tender, yet so strong; so thoughtful of others, and yet so self- sufficient! She had, unconsciously, imputed to him one fault, that he had loved and then forgotten his love unconsciously, for she had tried to think that this was a virtue rather than a fault but now with a full knowledge of what she was doing, but without any intention of doing it she acquitted him of that one fault. Now that she could acquit him, she owned that it would have been a fault. To have loved, and so soon to have forgotten it! No; he had loved her truly, and alas! he was one who could not be made to forget it. Then she went on to the cottage, exercising her thoughts rather on the contrast between the two men than on the subject to which she should have applied them.

'So you have come at last!' said Mrs Askerton. 'Till I got your message I thought there was to be some dreadful misfortune.'

'What misfortune?'

'Something dreadful! One often anticipates something very bad without exactly knowing what. At least, I do. I am always expecting a catastrophe when I am alone that is and then I am so often alone.'