his present wife, on a certain special occasion she may remember, before the lamented death of Mrs. Skewton, produced a withering effect, and for the moment quite subdued her!"
Edith laughed. How harshly and unmusically need not be described. It is enough that he was glad to hear her.
"Madam," he resumed, "I have done with this. Your own opinions are so strong, and, I am persuaded, so unalterable," he repeated those words slowly and with great emphasis, "that I am almost afraid to incur your displeasure anew, when I say that in spite of these defects and my full knowledge of them, I have become habituated to Mr. Dombey, and esteem him. But when I say so, it is not, believe me, for the mere sake of vaunting a feeling that is so utterly at variance with your own, and for which you can have no sympathy"—oh how distinct and plain and emphasized this was! "but to give you an assurance of the zeal with which, in this unhappy matter, I am yours, and the indignation with which I regard the part I am to fill!"
She sat as if she were afraid to take her eyes from his face.
And now to unwind the last ring of the coil!
"It is growing late," said Carker, after a pause, "and you are, as you said, fatigued. But the second object of this interview, I must not forget. I must recommend you, I must entreat you in the most earnest manner, for sufficient reasons that I have, to be cautious in your demonstrations of regard for Miss Dombey."
"Cautious! What do you mean?"
"To be careful how you exhibit too much affection for that young lady."
"Too much affection, Sir!" said Edith, knitting her broad brow and rising. "Who judges my affection, or measures it out? You?"
"It is not I who do so." He was, or feigned to be, perplexed.
"Who then?"
"Can you not guess who then?"
"I do not choose to guess," she answered.
"Madam," he said after a little hesitation; meantime they had been, and still were, regarding each other as before; "I am in a difficulty here. You have told me you will receive no message, and you have forbidden me to return to that subject; but the two subjects are so closely entwined, I find, that unless you will accept this vague caution from one who has now the honour to possess your confidence, though the way to it has been through your displeasure, I must violate the injunction you have laid upon me."
"You know that you are free to do so, Sir," said Edith. "Do it."
So pale, so trembling, so impassioned! He had not miscalculated the effect, then!
"His instructions were," he said, in a low voice, "that I should inform you that your demeanour towards Miss Dombey is not agreeable to him. That it suggests comparisons to him which are not favourable to himself. That he desires it may be wholly changed; and that if you are in earnest, he is confident it will be; for your continued show of affection will not benefit its object."
"That is a threat," she said.
