The Project Gutenberg EBook of Man and Wife, by Wilkie Collins
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Title: Man and Wife
Author: Wilkie Collins
Release Date: February 21, 2006 [EBook #1586]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAN AND WIFE ***
Produced by James Rusk and David Widger
MAN AND WIFE
by Wilkie Collins
Contents
PROLOGUE.—THE IRISH MARRIAGE.
Part the First.
Part the Second.
THE STORY.
FIRST SCENE.—THE SUMMER-HOUSE.
CHAPTER THE FIRST.
CHAPTER THE SECOND.
CHAPTER THE THIRD.
CHAPTER THE FOURTH.
CHAPTER THE FIFTH.
CHAPTER THE SIXTH.
CHAPTER THE SEVENTH.
CHAPTER THE EIGHTH.
SECOND SCENE.—THE INN.
CHAPTER THE NINTH.
CHAPTER THE TENTH.
CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH.
CHAPTER THE TWELFTH.
CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH.
THIRD SCENE.—LONDON.
CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH.
CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH.
CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH.
FOURTH SCENE.—WINDYGATES.
CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH
CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH.
CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH.
CHAPTER THE TWENTIETH.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIRST.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-THIRD.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FOURTH.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIFTH.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SIXTH.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SEVENTH.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-EIGHTH.
FIFTH SCENE.—GLASGOW.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-NINTH.
CHAPTER THE THIRTIETH.
SIXTH SCENE.—SWANHAVEN LODGE.
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FIRST
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-SECOND.
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-THIRD.
SEVENTH SCENE.—HAM FARM.
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FOURTH.
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FIFTH.
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-SIXTH.
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-SEVENTH.
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-EIGHTH.
EIGHTH SCENE—THE PANTRY.
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-NINTH.
NINTH SCENE.—THE MUSIC-ROOM.
CHAPTER THE FORTIETH.
TENTH SCENE—THE BEDROOM.
CHAPTER THE FORTY-FIRST.
ELEVENTH SCENE.—SIR PATRICK'S HOUSE.
CHAPTER THE FORTY-SECOND.
CHAPTER THE FORTY-THIRD.
TWELFTH SCENE.—DRURY LANE.
CHAPTER THE FORTY-FOURTH.
THIRTEENTH SCENE.—FULHAM.
CHAPTER THE FORTY-FIFTH.
FOURTEENTH SCENE.—PORTLAND PLACE.
CHAPTER THE FORTY-SIXTH.
FIFTEENTH SCENE.—HOLCHESTER HOUSE.
CHAPTER THE FORTY-SEVENTH.
SIXTEENTH SCENE.—SALT PATCH.
CHAPTER THE FORTY-EIGHTH.
CHAPTER THE FORTY-NINTH.
CHAPTER THE FIFTIETH.
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-FIRST.
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-SECOND.
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-THIRD.
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-FOURTH.
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-FIFTH.
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-SIXTH.
CHAPTER THE FIFTY-SEVENTH.
EPILOGUE.
PROLOGUE.—THE IRISH MARRIAGE.
Part the First.
THE VILLA AT HAMPSTEAD.
I.
ON a summer's morning, between thirty and forty years ago, two girls were crying bitterly in the cabin of an East Indian passenger ship, bound outward, from Gravesend to Bombay.
They were both of the same age—eighteen. They had both, from childhood upward, been close and dear friends at the same school. They were now parting for the first time—and parting, it might be, for life.
The name of one was Blanche. The name of the other was Anne.
Both were the children of poor parents, both had been pupil-teachers at the school; and both were destined to earn their own bread. Personally speaking, and socially speaking, these were the only points of resemblance between them.
Blanche was passably attractive and passably intelligent, and no more. Anne was rarely beautiful and rarely endowed. Blanche's parents were worthy people, whose first consideration was to secure, at any sacrifice, the future well-being of their child. Anne's parents were heartless and depraved. Their one idea, in connection with their daughter, was to speculate on her beauty, and to turn her abilities to profitable account.
The girls were starting in life under widely different conditions. Blanche was going to India, to be governess in the household of a Judge, under care of the Judge's wife. Anne was to wait at home until the first opportunity offered of sending her cheaply to Milan. There, among strangers, she was to be perfected in the actress's and the singer's art; then to return to England, and make the fortune of her family on the lyric stage.
Such were the prospects of the two as they sat together in the cabin of the Indiaman locked fast in each other's arms, and crying bitterly. The whispered farewell talk exchanged between them—exaggerated and impulsive as girls' talk is apt to be—came honestly, in each case, straight from the heart.
"Blanche! you may be married in India. Make your husband bring you back to England."
"Anne! you may take a dislike to the stage. Come out to India if you do."
"In England or out of England, married or not married, we will meet, darling—if it's years hence—with all the old love between us; friends who help each other, sisters who trust each other, for life! Vow it, Blanche!"
"I vow it, Anne!"
"With all your heart and soul?"
"With all my heart and soul!"
The sails were spread to the wind, and the ship began to move in the water. It was necessary to appeal to the captain's authority before the girls could be parted. The captain interfered gently and firmly. "Come, my dear," he said, putting his arm round Anne; "you won't mind me! I have got a daughter of my own." Anne's head fell on the sailor's shoulder. He put her, with his own hands, into the shore-boat alongside. In five minutes more the ship had gathered way; the boat was at the landing-stage—and the girls had seen the last of each other for many a long year to come.
This was in the summer of eighteen hundred and thirty-one.
II.
Twenty-four years later—in the summer of eighteen hundred and fifty-five—there was a villa at Hampstead to be let, furnished.
The house was still occupied by the persons who desired to let it. On the evening on which this scene opens a lady and two gentlemen were seated at the dinner-table. The lady had reached the mature age of forty-two. She was still a rarely beautiful woman. Her husband, some years younger than herself, faced her at the table, sitting silent and constrained, and never, even by accident, looking at his wife. The third person was a guest. The husband's name was Vanborough. The guest's name was Kendrew.