But both her life-consciousness and her
spirits--in some only do the words mean the same thing--had been
kept down by the family relations in which she found herself. Her
father loved her with what love was in him, and therefore was
jealous; trusted, and therefore enslaved her; could make her
useful, and therefore oppressed her. Since his health began to
decline he would go nowhere without her, though he spoke seldom a
pleasant, and often a very unpleasant word to her. He never praised
her to her face, but swore deeply to her excellence in ears that
cared little to hear of it. When at home she must always be within
his reach, if not within his call; but he was far from slow to
anger with her, and she dreaded his anger, not so much from love or
fear as from nicety, because of the ugly things he would say when
he was offended with her. One hears of ruling by love and ruling by
fear, but this man ruled by disgust. At home he lived much as we
have seen him in the house of another, cared for nobody's comfort
but his own, and was hard to keep in good humour--such good humour
as was possible to him. He paid no attention to business or
management: his estates had long been under trustees; lolled about
in his room, diverting himself with a horrible monkey which he
taught ugly tricks; drank almost constantly; and would throw dice
by himself for an hour together--doing what he could, which was
little, towards the poor object of killing Time.
Pages:
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242