Poor Miss Finch

by Wilkie Collins

  After an interval of a few minutes, the brothers appeared.

  Throughout the whole of the time during which the surgeons had been inthe house, I had noticed that Nugent persisted in keeping himselfscrupulously in the background. Having assumed the responsibility ofputting the serious question of Lucilla's sight scientifically to thetest, he appeared to be resolved to pause there, and to interfere nofurther in the affair after it had passed its first stage. And now again,when we were met in our little committee to discuss, and possibly tocombat, Lucilla's resolution to proceed to extremities, he once morerefrained from interfering actively with the matter in hand.

  "I have brought Oscar back with me," he said to Lucilla; "and I have toldhim how widely the two oculists differ in opinion on your case. He knowsalso that you have decided on being guided by the more favorable viewtaken by Herr Grosse--and he knows no more."

  There he stopped abruptly and seated himself apart from us, at the lowerend of the room.

  Lucilla instantly appealed to Oscar to explain his conduct.

  "Why have you kept out of the way?" she asked. "Why have you not beenwith me, at the most important moment of my life?"

  "Because I felt your anxious position too keenly," Oscar answered. "Don'tthink me inconsiderate towards you, Lucilla. If I had not kept away, Imight not have been able to control myself."

  I thought that reply far too dexterous to have come from Oscar on thespur of the moment. Besides, he looked at his brother when he said thelast words. It seemed more than likely--short as the interval had beenbefore they appeared in the sitting-room--that Nugent had been advisingOscar, and had been telling him what to say.

  Lucilla received his excuses with the readiest grace and kindness.

  "Mr. Sebright tells me, Oscar, that my sight is hopelessly gone," shesaid. "Herr Grosse answers for it that an operation will make me see.Need I tell you which of the two I believe in? If I could have had my ownway, Herr Grosse should have operated on my eyes, before he went back toLondon."

  "Did he refuse?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  Lucilla told him of the reasons which the German oculist had stated asunanswerable reasons for delay. Oscar listened attentively, and looked athis brother again, before he replied.

  "As I understand it," he said, "if you decide on risking the operation atonce, you decide on undergoing six weeks' imprisonment in a darkenedroom, and on placing yourself entirely at the surgeon's disposal for sixweeks more, after that. Have you considered, Lucilla, that this meansputting off our marriage again, for at least three months?"

  "If you were in my place, Oscar, you would let nothing, not even yourmarriage, stand in the way of your restoration to sight. Don't ask me toconsider, love. I can consider nothing but the prospect of seeing You!"

  That fearlessly frank confession silenced him. He happened to be sittingopposite to the glass, so that he could see his face. The poor wretchabruptly moved his chair, so as to turn his back on it.

  I looked at Nugent, and surprised him trying to catch his brother's eye.Prompted by him, as I could now no longer doubt, Oscar had laid hisfinger on a certain domestic difficulty which I had had in my mind, fromthe moment when the question of the operation had been first agitatedamong us.

  (The marriage of Oscar and Lucilla--it is here necessary to explain--hadencountered another obstacle, and undergone a new delay, in consequenceof the dangerous illness of Lucilla's aunt. Miss Batchford, formallyinvited to the ceremony as a matter of course, had most consideratelysent a message begging that the marriage might not be deferred on heraccount. Lucilla, however, had refused to allow her wedding to becelebrated, while the woman who had been a second mother to her, lay atthe point of death. The rector having an eye to rich Miss Batchford'smoney--not for himself (Miss B. detested him), but for Lucilla--hadsupported his daughter's decision; and Oscar had been compelled tosubmit. These domestic events had taken place about three weeks since;and we were now in receipt of news which not only assured us of the oldlady's recovery, but informed us also that she would be well enough tomake one of the wedding party in a fortnight's time. The bride's dresswas in the house; the bride's father was ready to officiate--and here,like a fatality, was the question of the operation unexpectedly startingup, and threatening another delay yet, for a period which could notpossibly be shorter than a period of three months! Add to this, if youplease, a new element of embarrassment as follows. Supposing Lucilla topersist in her resolution, and Oscar to persist in concealing from herthe personal change in him produced by the medical treatment of the fits,what would happen? Nothing less than this. Lucilla, if the operationsucceeded, would find out for herself--before instead of after hermarriage--the deception that had been practiced on her. And how she mightresent that deception, thus discovered, the cleverest person among uscould not pretend to foresee. There was our situation, as we sat indomestic parliament assembled, when the surgeons had left us!)

  Finding it impossible to attract his brother's attention, Nugent had noalternative but to interfere actively for the first time.

  "Let me suggest, Lucilla," he said, "that it is your duty to look at theother side of the question, before you make up your mind. In the firstplace, it is surely hard on Oscar to postpone the wedding-day again. Inthe second place, clever as he is, Herr Grosse is not infallible. It isjust possible that the operation may fail, and that you may find you haveput off your marriage for three months, to no purpose. Do think of it! Ifyou defer the operation on your eyes till after your marriage, youconciliate all interests, and you only delay by a month or so the timewhen you may see."

  Lucilla impatiently shook her head.

  "If you were blind," she answered, "you would not willingly delay by asingle hour the time when you might see. You ask me to think of it. I ask_you_ to think of the years I have lost. I ask _you_ to think of theexquisite happiness I shall feel, when Oscar and I are standing at thealtar, if I can _see_ the husband to whom I am giving myself for life!Put it off for a month? You might as well ask me to die for a month. Itis like death to be sitting here blind, and to know that a man is withina few hours' reach of me who can give me my sight! I tell you allplainly, if you go on opposing me in this, I don't answer for myself. IfHerr Grosse is not recalled to Dimchurch before the end of the week--I ammy own mistress; I will go to him in London!"

  Both the brothers looked at me.

  "Have you nothing to say, Madame Pratolungo?" asked Nugent.

  Oscar was too painfully agitated to speak. He softly crossed to my chair;and, kneeling by me, put my hand entreatingly to his lips.

  You may consider me a heartless woman if you will. I remained entirelyunmoved even by this. Lucilla's interests and my interests, you willobserve, were now one. I had resolved, from the first, that she shouldnot be married in ignorance of which was the man who was disfigured bythe blue face. If she took the course which would enable her to make thatdiscovery for herself, at the right time, she would spare me theperformance of a very painful and ungracious duty--and she would marry,as I was determined she should marry, with a full knowledge of the truth.In this position of affairs, it was no business of mine to join thetwin-brothers in trying to make her alter her resolution. On thecontrary, it was my business to confirm her in it.

  "I can't see that I have any right to interfere," I said. "In Lucilla'splace--after one and twenty years of blindness--I too should sacrificeevery other consideration to the consideration of recovering my sight."

  Oscar instantly rose, offended with me, and walked away to the window.Lucilla's face brightened gratefully. "Ah!" she said, "_you_ understandme!" Nugent, in his turn, left his chair. He had confidently calculated,in his brother's interests, on Lucilla's marriage preceding the recoveryof Lucilla's sight. That calculation was completely baffled. The marriagewould now depend on the state of Lucilla's feelings, after she hadpenetrated the truth for herself. I saw Nugent's face darken, as hewalked to the door.

  "Madame Pratolungo," he said, "you may, one day, r
egret the course thatyou have just taken. Do as you please, Lucilla--I have no more to say."

  He left the room, with a quiet submission to circumstances which becamehim admirably. Now, as always, it was impossible not to compare himadvantageously with his vacillating brother. Oscar turned round at thewindow, apparently with the idea of following Nugent out. At the firststep he checked himself. There was a last effort still left to make.Reverend Finch's "moral weight" had not been thrown into the scale yet.

  "There is one thing more, Lucilla," he said, "which you ought to knowbefore you decide. I have seen your father. He desires me to tell youthat he is strongly opposed to the experiment which you are determined totry."

  Lucilla sighed wearily. "It is not the first time that I find my fatherfailing to sympathize with me," she said. "I am distressed--but notsurprised. It is _you_ who surprise me!" she added, suddenly raising hervoice. "You, who love me, are not one with me, when I am standing on thebrink of a new life. Good Heavens! are my interests not your interests inthis? Is it not worth your while to wait till I can _look at you_ when Ivow before God to love, honor, and obey you? Do you understand him?" sheasked, appealing abruptly to me. "Why does he try to start difficulties?why is he not as eager about it as I am?"

  I turned to Oscar. Now was the time for him to fall at her feet and ownit! Here was the golden opportunity that might never come again. I signedto him impatiently to take it. He tried to take it--let me do him thejustice now, which I failed to do him at the time--he tried to take it.He advanced towards her; he struggled with himself; he said, "There is amotive for my conduct, Lucilla----" and stopped. His breath failed him;he struggled again; he forced out a word or two more: "A motive," he wenton, "which I have been afraid to confess----" he paused again, with theperspiration pouring over his livid face.

  Lucilla's patience failed her. "What is your motive?" she asked sharply.

  The tone in which she spoke broke down his last reserves of resolution.He turned his head suddenly so as not to see her. At the finalmoment--miserable, miserable man!--at the final moment, he took refuge inan excuse.

  "I don't believe in Herr Grosse," he said faintly, "as you believe inhim."

  Lucilla rose, bitterly disappointed, and opened the door that led intoher own room.

  "If it had been you who were blind," she answered, "_your_ belief wouldhave been _my_ belief, and _your_ hope _my_ hope. It seems I haveexpected too much from you. Live and learn! live and learn!"

  She went into her room, and closed the door on us. I could bear it nolonger. I got up, with the firm resolution in me to follow her, and saythe words which he had failed to say for himself. My hand was on thedoor, when I was suddenly pulled back from it by Oscar. I turned, andfaced him in silence.

  "No!" he said, with his eyes fixed on mine, and his hand still on my arm."If I don't tell her, nobody shall tell her for me."

  "She shall be deceived no longer--she must, and shall, hear it," Ianswered. "Let me go!"

  "You have given me your promise to wait for my leave before you open yourlips. I forbid you to open your lips."

  I snapped the fingers of my hand that was free, in his face. "_That_ formy promise!" I said. "Your contemptible weakness is putting her happinessin peril as well as yours." I turned my head towards the door, and calledto her. "Lucilla!"

  His hand closed fast on my arm. Some lurking devil in him that I hadnever seen yet, leapt up and looked at me out of his eyes.

  "Tell her," he whispered savagely between his teeth; "and I willcontradict you to your face! If you are desperate, I am desperate too. Idon't care what meanness I am guilty of! I will deny it on my honor; Iwill deny it on my oath. You heard what she said about you at Browndown.She will believe _me_ before _you._"

  Lucilla opened her door, and stood waiting on the threshold.

  "What is it?" she asked quietly.

  A moment's glance at Oscar warned me that he would do what he hadthreatened, if I persisted in my resolution. The desperation of a weakman is, of all desperations, the most unscrupulous and the mostunmanageable--when it is once roused. Angry as I was, I shrank fromdegrading him, as I must now have degraded him, if I matched my obstinacyagainst his. In mercy to both of them, I gave way.

  "I may be going out, my dear, before it gets dark," I said to Lucilla."Can I do anything for you in the village?"

  "Yes," she said, "if you will wait a little, you can take a letter for meto the post."

  She went back into her room, and closed the door.

  I neither looked at Oscar, nor spoke to him, when we were alone again. Hewas the first who broke the silence.

  "You have remembered your promise to me," he said. "You have done well."

  "I have nothing more to say to you," I answered. "I shall go to my ownroom."

  His eyes followed me uneasily as I walked to the door.

  "I shall speak to her," he muttered doggedly, "at my own time."

  A wise woman would not have allowed him to irritate her into sayinganother word. Alas! I am not a wise woman--that is to say, not always.

  "Your own time?" I repeated with the whole force of my contempt. "If youdon't own the truth to her before the German surgeon comes back, yourtime will have gone by for ever. He has told us in the plainestterms--when once the operation is performed, nothing must be said toagitate or distress her, for months afterwards. The preservation of hertranquillity is the condition of the recovery of her sight. You will soonhave an excuse for your silence, Mr. Oscar Dubourg!"

  The tone in which I said those last words stung him to some purpose.

  "Spare your sneers, you heartless Frenchwoman!" he broke out angrily. "Idon't care how I stand in _your_ estimation. Lucilla loves me. Nugentfeels for me."

  My vile temper instantly hit on the most merciless answer that I couldmake to him in return.

  "Ah, poor Lucilla!" I said. "What a much happier prospect hers might havebeen! What a thousand pities it is that she is not going to marry yourbrother, instead of marrying _you!_"

  He winced under that reply, as if I had cut him with a knife. His headdropped on his breast. He started back from me like a beaten dog--andsuddenly and silently left the room.

  I had not been a minute by myself, before my anger cooled. I tried tokeep it hot; I tried to remember that he had aspersed my nation incalling me a "heartless Frenchwoman." No! it was not to be done. In spiteof myself, I repented what I had said to him.

  In a moment more, I was out on the stairs to try if I could overtake him.

  I was too late. I heard the garden-gate bang, before I was out of thehouse. Twice I approached the gate to follow him. And twice I drew back,in the fear of making bad worse. It ended in my returning to thesitting-room, very seriously dissatisfied with myself.

  The first welcome interruption to my solitude came--not from Lucilla--butfrom the old nurse. Zillah appeared with a letter for me: left thatmoment at the rectory by the servant from Browndown. The direction was inOscar's handwriting. I opened the envelope, and read these words:--

  "MADAME PRATOLUNGO,--YOU have distressed and pained me more than I cansay. There are faults, and serious ones, on my side, I know. I heartilybeg your pardon for anything that I may have said or done to offend you.I cannot submit to your hard verdict on me. If you knew how I adoreLucilla, you would make allowances for me--you would understand me betterthan you do. I cannot get your last cruel words out of my ears. I cannotmeet you again without some explanation of them. You stabbed me to theheart, when you said to me this evening that it would be a happierprospect for Lucilla if she had been going to marry my brother instead ofmarrying me. I hope you did not really mean that? Will you please writeand tell me whether you did or not?

  "OSCAR."

  Write and tell him? It was absurd enough--when we were within a fewminutes' walk of each other--that Oscar should prefer the cold formalityof a letter, to the friendly ease of a personal interview. Why could henot have called, and spoken to me? We should have made it up together farmore comfortably in
that way--and in half the time. At any rate, Idetermined to go to Browndown, and be good friends again, viva-voce,with this poor, weak, well-meaning, ill-judging boy. Was it not monstrousto have attached serious meaning to what Oscar had said when he was in apanic of nervous terror! His tone of writing so keenly distressed me thatI resented his letter on that very account. It was one of the chillyevenings of an English June. A small fire was burning in the grate. Icrumpled up the letter, and threw it, as I supposed, into the fire.(After-events showed that I only threw it into a corner of the fenderinstead.) Then, I put on my hat, without stopping to think of Lucilla, orof what she was writing for the post, and ran off to Browndown.

  Where do you think I found him? Locked up in his own room! His insaneshyness--it was really nothing less--made him shrink from that verypersonal explanation which (with such a temperament as mine) was the onlypossible explanation under the circumstances. I had to threaten him withforcing his door, before I could get him to show himself, and take myhand.

  Once face to face with him, I soon set things right. I really believe hehad been half mad with his own self-imposed troubles, when he haddeclared he would give me the lie at the door of Lucilla's room.

  It is needless to dwell on what took place between us. I shall only sayhere that I had serious reason, at a later time--as you will soon see--toregret not having humoured Oscar's request that I should reconcile myselfto him by writing, instead of by word of mouth. If I had only placed onrecord, in pen and ink, what I actually said in the way of makingatonement to him, I might have spared some suffering to myself and toothers. As it was, the only proof that I had absolved myself in hisestimation consisted in his cordially shaking hands with me at the door,when I left him.

  "Did you meet Nugent?" he asked, as he walked with me across theenclosure in front of the house.

  I had gone to Browndown by a short cut at the back of the garden, insteadof going through the village. Having mentioned this, I asked if Nugenthad returned to the rectory.

  "He went back to see you," said Oscar.

  "Why?"

  "Only his usual kindness. He takes your views of things. He laughed whenhe heard I had sent a letter to you, and he ran off (dear fellow!) to seeyou on my behalf. You must have met him, if you had come here by thevillage."

  On getting back to the rectory, I questioned Zillah. Nugent, in myabsence, had run up into the sitting-room; had waited there a few minutesalone, on the chance of my return; had got tired of waiting, and had goneaway again. I inquired about Lucilla next. A few minutes after Nugent hadgone, she had left her room, and she too had asked for me. Hearing that Iwas not to be found in the house, she had given Zillah a letter topost--and had then returned to her bed-chamber.

  I happened to be standing by the hearth, looking into the dying fire,while the nurse was speaking. Not a vestige of Oscar's letter to me (as Inow well remember) was to be seen. In my position, the plain conclusionwas that I had really done what I supposed myself to have done--that isto say, thrown the letter into the flames.

  Entering Lucilla's room, soon afterwards, to make my apologies for havingforgotten to wait and take her letter to the post, I found her, wearyenough after the events of the day, getting ready for bed.

  "I don't wonder at your being tired of waiting for me," she said."Writing is long, long work for me. But this was a letter which I feltbound to write myself, if I could. Can you guess who I am correspondingwith? It is done, my dear! I have written to Herr Grosse!"

  "Already!"

  "What is there to wait for? What is there left to determine on? I havetold Herr Grosse that our family consultation is over, and that I amentirely at his disposal for any length of time he may think right. And Iwarn him, if he attempts to put it off, that he will be only forcing onme the inconvenience of going to him in London. I have expressed thatpart of my letter strongly--I can tell you! He will get it to-morrow, bythe afternoon post. And the next day--if he is a man of his word--he willbe here."

  "Oh, Lucilla! not to operate on your eyes?"

  "Yes--to operate on my eyes!"