He went early
on Saturday morning, and young Dusautoy, arriving in the evening, was
first ushered into the library; while Albinia did her best to soothe
the excited nerves and fluttering spirits of Lucy, who was
exceedingly ashamed to meet him again under the eyes of others, after
such a course of stolen interviews, and what she had been told of her
influence doing him good only alarmed her the more.
Well she might, for if ever character resembled that of the iron pot
borne down the stream in company with the earthen one, it was the
object of her choice. Poor pipkin that Gilbert was, the contact had
cost him a smashing blow, and for all clay of the more fragile mould,
the best hope was to give the invulnerable material a wide berth.
Talk of influence! Mr. Dusautoy might as well hope that a Wedgwood
cream-jug would guide a copper cauldron and keep verdigris aloof.
His attraction for Lucy had always been a mystery to her family, who
perhaps hardly did justice to the magnetism of mere force of purpose.
Better training might have ennobled into resolution that which was
now doggedness and obstinacy, and, even in that shape, the real
element of strength had a tendency to work upon softer natures. Thus
it had acted in different ways with the Vicar, with Gilbert, and with
Lucy; each had fallen under the power of his determination, with more
or less of their own consent, and with Lucy the surrender was
complete; she no sooner sat beside Algernon than she was completely
his possession, and his complacent self-satisfaction was reflected on
her face in a manner that told her parents that she was their own no
longer, but given up to a stronger master.
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