So he sat in
silence and shook his head. "And you think that I should put up
with it quietly!"
"I think that your father should see the man." Arabella shook her
head contemptuously. "If you wish it I will write to my mother."
"I would rather trust to my uncle."
"I don't know what he could do;--but I will write to him if you
please."
"And you won't see Lord Rufford?"
He sat silent for a minute or two during which she pressed him over
and over again to have an interview with her recreant lover,
bringing up all the arguments that she knew, reminding him of their
former affection for each other, telling him that she had no
brother of her own, and that her own father was worse than useless
in such a matter. A word or two she said of the nature of the prize
to be gained, and many words as to her absolute right to regard
that prize as her own. But at last he refused. "I am not the person
to do it," he said. "Even if I were your brother I should not be
so,--unless with the view of punishing him for his conduct;--in
which place the punishment to you would be worse than any I could
inflict on him. It cannot be good that any young lady should have
her name in the mouths of all the lovers of gossip in the country."
She was going to burst out at him in her anger, but before the
words were out of her mouth she remembered herself.
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