Mr. Ablewhite got upon his feet, and pushed away his chair so violently
that it toppled over and fell on the floor.
"I have something more to say on my side," he announced, bringing down
the flat of his hand on the table with a bang. "I have to say that if my
son doesn't feel this insult, I do!"
Rachel started, and looked at him in sudden surprise.
"Insult?" she repeated. "What do you mean?"
"Insult!" reiterated Mr. Ablewhite. "I know your motive, Miss Verinder,
for breaking your promise to my son! I know it as certainly as if you
had confessed it in so many words. Your cursed family pride is insulting
Godfrey, as it insulted ME when I married your aunt. Her family--her
beggarly family--turned their backs on her for marrying an honest man,
who had made his own place and won his own fortune. I had no ancestors.
I wasn't descended from a set of cut-throat scoundrels who lived by
robbery and murder. I couldn't point to the time when the Ablewhites
hadn't a shirt to their backs, and couldn't sign their own names. Ha!
ha! I wasn't good enough for the Herncastles, when I married. And now,
it comes to the pinch, my son isn't good enough for YOU.
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