She knew
that before she reached Whitebeck she would have passed the boundary
between the Duddon and Threlfall estates. She was now indeed on her
father's land, the land which in justice ought to be hers some day; which
in Italy would be hers by law, or part of it anyway, whatever pranks her
father might play. But here in England a man might rob his child of every
penny if he pleased. That was strange when England was such a great
country--such a splendid country. "I _love_ England!" she thought
passionately, as she leant back with folded arms and closed eyes.
And straightway on the dusk rose the image of Tatham--Tatham on
horseback, as she had seen him set out for the hunt that morning; and she
felt her eyes grow a little wet. Why? Oh! because he was so tall and
splendid--and he sat his horse like a king--and everybody loved him--and
she was living in his house--and so, whether he would or no, he must take
notice of her sometimes. One evening had he not let her mend his glove?
And another evening, when she was practising her dancing for Lady Tatham,
had he not come in to look? Ah, well, wait till she could sing and dance
properly, till--perhaps--he saw her on the stage! Her newly discovered
singing voice, which was the excitement of the moment for Lady Tatham and
Netta, was to Felicia like some fairy force within her, struggling to be
at large, which would some day carve out her fortunes, and bring her to
Tatham--on equal terms.
For her pride had flourished and fed upon her love.
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