“I am not on the other side,” said Durant with compunction. There were some things in his letter to Lady Curtis which recurred to him, and gave him a choking sensation. His intentions had been friendly, but his acts--Well! as they had been altogether unsuccessful they did not matter much; and he too felt it difficult to resist the familiar face and tone. If he could have done any good;--but as this was impossible, why make a painful breach? He held out his hand to his friend. “Look here, Arthur,” he said with a smile, “what is the good of fighting? If I could stop your marriage I would do it; but apparently I can’t; I don’t conceal from you that I am very sorry; but if you do this very foolish thing, it seems a pity that you should lose a friend too.”
Arthur did not take the hand held out to him; but he sat down somewhat sullenly on the opposite side of the table, and then there ensued a pause, for neither knew what to say.
“I am going back to town to-morrow,” said Durant, “I will not undertake to further your prospects; but if you wish any communication made--to take off the edge of the unkindness, Arthur--”
“What--to settle all this without any reference to them, without explanation, without trying to secure their sympathy, their approval--”
“Approval! that was a likely thing; what was the use of making appeals or giving explanations? Here is an example; the moment they do hear, they send you primed and prepossessed against it. I answered their questions; but I knew it was useless, and why should I humiliate myself--and _her_? When it is irrevocable and can’t be altered, I always intended to let them know the whole, and throw myself upon their mercy.”
“It is clear you expect more magnanimity from them than they have found in you.”
“Well,” said Arthur coolly, “a man must have queer parents if he does not take that for granted. They do put up with things when they can’t help themselves. What is the good of worrying them with opposition (which it was clear they must make) and which could only irritate both parties? No, it was not done by inadvertence, it was done advisedly. If you never learned, old fellow, the advantage of doing a thing without permission rather than in the face of a prohibition--it makes all the difference,” said Arthur with a sudden hoarse laugh, which ended as suddenly as it began, and had anything but humour in the sound of it. “No, I have no instructions to give you, I will write as soon as--well, after we are married; why should I do anything before?”