“Mr. Wrayburn has been considerate and good to me, sir,” said Lizzie, proudly, “in connexion with the death and with the memory of my poor father.”
“No doubt. He is of course a very considerate and a very good man, Mr. Eugene Wrayburn.”
“He is nothing to you, I think,” said Lizzie, with an indignation she could not repress.
“Oh yes, he is. There you mistake. He is much to me.”
“What can he be to you?”
“He can be a rival to me among other things,” said Bradley.
“Mr. Headstone,” returned Lizzie, with a burning face, “it is cowardly in you to speak to me in this way. But it makes me able to tell you that I do not like you, and that I never have liked you from the first, and that no other living creature has anything to do with the effect you have produced upon me for yourself.”
His head bent for a moment, as if under a weight, and he then looked up again, moistening his lips. “I was going on with the little I had left to say. I knew all this about Mr. Eugene Wrayburn, all the while you were drawing me to you. I strove against the knowledge, but quite in vain. It made no difference in me. With Mr. Eugene Wrayburn in my mind, I went on. With Mr. Eugene Wrayburn in my mind, I spoke to you just now. With Mr. Eugene Wrayburn in my mind, I have been set aside and I have been cast out.”
“If you give those names to my thanking you for your proposal and declining it, is it my fault, Mr. Headstone?” said Lizzie, compassionating the bitter struggle he could not conceal, almost as much as she was repelled and alarmed by it.
“I am not complaining,” he returned, “I am only stating the case. I had to wrestle with my self-respect when I submitted to be drawn to you in spite of Mr. Wrayburn. You may imagine how low my self-respect lies now.”
She was hurt and angry; but repressed herself in consideration of his suffering, and of his being her brother’s friend.
“And it lies under his feet,” said Bradley, unfolding his hands in spite of himself, and fiercely motioning with them both towards the stones of the pavement. “Remember that! It lies under that fellow’s feet, and he treads upon it and exults above it.”
“He does not!” said Lizzie.
“He does!” said Bradley. “I have stood before him face to face, and he crushed me down in the dirt of his contempt, and walked over me. Why? Because he knew with triumph what was in store for me to- night.”
“O, Mr. Headstone, you talk quite wildly.”
“Quite collectedly. I know what I say too well. Now I have said all. I have used no threat, remember; I have done no more than show you how the case stands; — how the case stands, so far.”
At this moment her brother sauntered into view close by. She darted to him, and caught him by the hand. Bradley followed, and laid his heavy hand on the boy’s opposite shoulder.
“Charley Hexam, I am going home. I must walk home by myself to-night, and get shut up in my room without being spoken to. Give me half an hour’s start, and let me be, till you find me at my work in the morning. I shall be at my work in the morning just as usual.”