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Doctor Thorne

Chapter 6 No.6

Word Count: 4347    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

sham's Ea

nk that they might as well go through the drawing-room windows on to the lawn. First one slipped out a little way, and then another; and then they got on to the

he latter. It was only natural that they, being there, should tempt their swains to come to them by the sight of their broad-brimmed hats and evening dresses

, Mr Gresham, were we not?" said Miss Oriel, turni

d pounds, there or thereabouts. She and her brother had been living at Greshamsbury for the last two years, the living having been purchased for him-such were Mr Gresham's necessities-during the lifetime of the last old incumbent. Miss Oriel was in every respect a nice neighbour; she was goo

. When he described our rapid journey from London, he nearly mov

it, Margaretta; both t

Frank; you'r

; it's over now, and done. A fellow

of course, there'll be another speech; and then you'

ding, Miss Oriel, long

objection. It will be so kind

you'll marry some awful bigwig, or some te

came out," said Margaretta, "that I began to think that her

a year's difference in their age; Frank, however,

t I am moderate in my ambition. I do love Greshamsbury, an

ke myself, I sup

not possibly wis

you are, Frank," said

a carver,"

to him for ever, because of his c

ever repeats itse

y brothers," said Frank; "so all

el stood still in the path, and made a very graceful curtsy. "Dear me! only think, Lady Margaretta, tha

the other; "expressing himself quite willing to

ch: had he loved me now, there would have been n

s, Frank, upon my word, I had no idea you

n't have said sacrifice, that

ave a regular declaration. Lady Margaretta, you haven't got a scent

g to make a declarati

I appeal to you; did you not understan

thing could be plainer,"

after all it means nothing," said Patienc

an excellent hand at qu

r I have got a witness; here is Lady Margaretta, who heard it all. What a pity it is that my

er cousin; the more so as she was quite accustomed to take a principal part herself in all such transactions. She therefore not unwillingly walked on with Mr Oriel. Mr Oriel, it must be conceived, was not a common, everyday parson, but had points about him which ma

was very well making a fool of a lad of twenty-one when others wer

le than yours, Mr Gresham," said she, quite sob

se to make out that I am only a boy? I can bear to be laughed at pretty well generally,

tête-à-tête with him, thought it was time to give over flirting; Frank, however, imagined that it was just the

riends as you and I may laug

ich is sport to you, may be death to me.'" Anyone looking at Frank's face as he said this, might well have imagined that he was breakin

g in love with pretty faces, as it does to ploughboys and other ordinary people, his great interests were not fo

king over Greshamsbury affairs, and they had latterly been assisted by the Lady Amelia, than whom no de Courcy ever born was more wise, more solemn, more prudent, or more proud. The ponderosity of her qualifications for no

xpress intention on the part of the countess, that they should be man and wife. The countess had been careful to make it intelligible to her sister-in-law and ni

t rank has its drawbacks, Augusta." As the Lady Amelia was now

meditation,

her case rank had been foun

she thought of recapitulating in her memory all that had ever passed between Mr Moffat and herself, she would have found that it did not amount to more than the most ordinary conversation between chance partners in a ball-room. Nevertheless, she was to be Mrs Moffat. All that Mr Gresham knew of him was, that when he me

e next election, now near at hand, a Radical would be sent up, a man pledged to the ballot, to economies of all sorts, one who would carry out Barchester politics in all their abrupt, obnoxious, pestilent virulence. This was one Scatcherd, a great railway contractor, a man who was a native of Barchester

at doctrine, that he must marry money, had been laid down with authority, and received without doubt. She now pushed it further, and said that no time should be lost; that he should not only marry money, but do so very early

protested that there was at least no ground for supp

associate together, there was no saying what danger might arise. They all knew that old Mr Bateson-the present Mr Bateson's

aunt," said Augusta, feeling called

ese things do happen, an

y grand; but, nevertheless, Augusta could not but feel that she perhaps might be about to dilute the blood of her coming chi

t say that anything will come of it; but it may: Miss Dunstable is coming down to us next week. Now,

of money, certainly,

hing, and a great deal m

, was it not, au

e ointment of Lebanon, or something of that

e, Rosina?" asked

ose; but I don't thin

"And what is she like? I think that Frank alread

his family. A Mr Gresham of Greshamsbury has a position to support." The de Courcy scion spoke these last words in the sort of tone that

tation to Courcy Castle, and that when she got him there, she should do all that lay i

t wasn't much over two hundred thousand, why, that idea fell to the ground." The terms on which

l drawing-room. Here the countess was to have her tea, apart from the outer common wo

eson and the governess, Mr Everbeery and his cook's diluted blood, and ways paved for revolutions, all presented themselves to Augusta'

the folly of young Mr Everbeery, she would in truth have been in a hurry to send him off to Courcy Castle and Miss Dunstable. Some days before the commencement of our story, young Frank had sworn in sober earnest-in what he intended for his most sober earnest, his most earnest sobriety-that he loved Mary Thorne with a love for which

? Say you will. Oh, Mary, dearest Mary, will you? won't you? do you

rs of age, attempted to possess himself of the affections of the doctor's nie

in the green wood, what

row on the sunny side of the wall." Though Frank was only a boy, it behoved Mary to be something more than a girl. Frank might be allowed, without laying himself open to much just reproach, to throw all of what he believed to be hi

ntimate, familiarity must follow as a matter of course. Frank and Mary had been so much together in his holidays, had so constantly consorted together as boys and girls, that, as regarded her, he had not that innate fear of a woman which represses a young man's tongue

ency, as it were, to the idea that there might be something serious between the two. Not that Beatrice had ever wished to promote a marriage between them, or had even thought of such a thing. She was girlish, thoughtless, imprudent, inartistic, and very unlike a de Courcy. Very unlike a de Courcy she was in all that; but, nevertheless, she had the de Courcy ven

in all the warmth of girlish confidence, of the great glories of family traditions and family honours. Beatrice had talked in utter ignorance as to her friend's birth;

an. Let the most wealthy man in Europe pour all his wealth at her feet, she could, if so inclined, give him back at any rate more than that. That offered at her feet she knew she would never

ewoman? What is the inner reality, the spiritualised quintessence of that privilege in the world which men call rank, which f

of democracy was strong with her. Beyond this it could be had but by inheritance, received as it were second-hand, or twenty-second-hand. And so far the spirit of aristocracy was s

m an answer, he meant that he had a right to expect

sham,"

ry; Mr

resham after that. And, moreover,

ot if it sh

so; but if it be not so, if you do not agree that i

an my mother?

made Frank almost start. "I mean no such thing. I mean you, not your mothe

of me,

t separate me from Beatrice. It is you that will drive me out; no one else. I could stand my ground a

reat you as the girl I have chose

nt. I am sure you would not willingly injure me; but if you speak to me, or of me, again in that way, you will injure me, inju

ew pocket-pistols were all ready, properly cleaned, loaded, and capped, should

quent period; doubtless with a view of preven

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Doctor Thorne
Doctor Thorne
“The central theme of the novel is the sexual jealousy of Louis Trevelyan who unjustly accuses his wife Emily of a liaison with a friend of her father's. As his suspicion deepens into madness, Trollope gives us a profound psychological study in which Louis' obsessive delirium is comparable to the tormented figure of Othello, tragically flawed by self-deception. Against the disintegration of the Trevelyans' marriage, a lively cast of characters explore the ideas of female emancipation and how to distinguish between obedience and subjection. Although himself no supporter of women's rights, in this novel some of Trollope's most spirited characters are single women.Published in 1869, the same year as John Stuart Mills' The Subjection of Women and while the Divorce Act was a relative novelty, He Knew He Was Right was a timely novel, drawing a fine line between the obedience of women within marriage and their total possession by men.”
1 Chapter 1 No.12 Chapter 2 No.23 Chapter 3 No.34 Chapter 4 No.45 Chapter 5 No.56 Chapter 6 No.67 Chapter 7 No.78 Chapter 8 No.89 Chapter 9 No.910 Chapter 10 No.1011 Chapter 11 No.1112 Chapter 12 No.1213 Chapter 13 No.1314 Chapter 14 No.1415 Chapter 15 No.1516 Chapter 16 No.1617 Chapter 17 No.1718 Chapter 18 No.1819 Chapter 19 No.1920 Chapter 20 No.2021 Chapter 21 No.2122 Chapter 22 No.2223 Chapter 23 No.2324 Chapter 24 No.2425 Chapter 25 No.2526 Chapter 26 No.2627 Chapter 27 No.2728 Chapter 28 No.2829 Chapter 29 No.2930 Chapter 30 No.3031 Chapter 31 No.3132 Chapter 32 No.3233 Chapter 33 No.3334 Chapter 34 No.3435 Chapter 35 No.3536 Chapter 36 No.3637 Chapter 37 No.3738 Chapter 38 No.3839 Chapter 39 No.3940 Chapter 40 No.4041 Chapter 41 No.4142 Chapter 42 No.4243 Chapter 43 No.4344 Chapter 44 No.4445 Chapter 45 No.4546 Chapter 46 No.4647 Chapter 47 No.47