FIRST NARRATIVE
8. CHAPTER VIII
(continued)
Mr. Ablewhite got upon his feet, and pushed away his chair so violently
that it toppled over and fell on the floor.
"I have something more to say on my side," he announced,
bringing down the flat of his hand on the table with a bang.
"I have to say that if my son doesn't feel this insult,
I do!"
Rachel started, and looked at him in sudden surprise.
"Insult?" she repeated. "What do you mean?"
"Insult!" reiterated Mr. Ablewhite. "I know your motive,
Miss Verinder, for breaking your promise to my son! I know
it as certainly as if you had confessed it in so many words.
Your cursed family pride is insulting Godfrey, as it insulted
ME when I married your aunt. Her family--her beggarly family--
turned their backs on her for marrying an honest man,
who had made his own place and won his own fortune.
I had no ancestors. I wasn't descended from a set of
cut-throat scoundrels who lived by robbery and murder.
I. couldn't point to the time when the Ablewhites hadn't a shirt
to their backs, and couldn't sign their own names. Ha! ha!
I wasn't good enough for the Herncastles, when I married.
And now, it comes to the pinch, my son isn't good enough
for YOU. I suspected it, all along. You have got
the Herncastle blood in you, my young lady! I suspected it
all along."
"A very unworthy suspicion," remarked Mr. Bruff. "I am astonished that you
have the courage to acknowledge it."
Before Mr. Ablewhite could find words to answer in, Rachel spoke
in a tone of the most exasperating contempt.
"Surely," she said to the lawyer, "this is beneath notice.
If he can think in THAT way, let us leave him to think as
he pleases."
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