Anthony Trollope: Barchester Towers

41. CHAPTER XLI: MRS BOLD CONFIDES HER SORROW TO HER FRIEND MISS STANHOPE (continued)

'But you won't tell him?' said Mrs Bold with a look of horror.

'Not if you don't like it,' said Charlotte; 'but considering everything, I would strongly advise it. If you had a brother, you know, it would be unnecessary. But it is very right that Mr Slope should know that you have somebody by you that will, and can protect you.'

'But my father is here.'

'Yes, but it is so disagreeable for clergymen to have to quarrel with each other; and circumstanced as your father is just at this moment, it would be very inexpedient that there should be anything unpleasant between him and Mr Slope. Surely you and Bertie are intimate enough for you to permit him to take your part.'

Charlotte Stanhope was very anxious that her brother should at once on that very day settle matters with his future wife.

Things had now come to that point between him and his father, and between him and his creditors, that he must either do so, or leave Barchester; either do that, or go back to his unwashed associates, dirty lodgings, and poor living at Carrara. Unless he could provide himself with an income, he must go to Carrara or to -. His father the prebendary had not said this in so many words, but had he done so, he could not have signified it more plainly.

Such being the state of the case, it was very necessary that no more time should be lost. Charlotte had seen her brother's apathy, when he neglected to follow Mrs Bold out of the room, with anger which she could hardly suppress. It was grievous to think that Mr Slope should have so distanced him.

Charlotte felt that she had played her part with sufficient skill. She had brought them together and induced such a degree of intimacy, that her brother was really relieved from all trouble and labour in the matter. And moreover, it was quite plain that Mrs Bold was very fond of Bertie. And now it was plain enough also that he had nothing to fear from his rival Mr Slope.

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