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"She waited a moment, turned her face full on me, and, reaching across the table, laid her hand firmly on my arm."
John McLenan
17 December 1859
11.3 cm high by 8.8 cm wide (4 ⅜ by 3 ½ inches), framed, p. 805.
Fourth regular illustration for Collins's The Woman in White: A Novel (1861), 31.
Scanned image and text by Philip V. Allingham.
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"She waited a moment, turned her face full on me, and, reaching across the table, laid her hand firmly on my arm." — John McLenan's fourth composite woodblock engraving for Wilkie Collins's The Woman in White: A Novel, Instalment 4, published on 17 December 1859 in Harper's Weekly: A Journal of Civilization, Vol. III. Part Four: "The Story Begun by Walter Hartright, of Clement's Inn, Teacher of Drawing," p. 805; Chapter IX, p. 31 in the 1861 volume. [Click on the image to enlarge it.]
“Mr. Hartright,” she said, “I am going to begin by making a frank avowal to you. I am going to say — without phrase-making, which I detest, or paying compliments, which I heartily despise — that I have come, in the course of your residence with us, to feel a strong friendly regard for you. I was predisposed in your favour when you first told me of your conduct towards that unhappy woman whom you met under such remarkable circumstances. Your management of the affair might not have been prudent, but it showed the self-control, the delicacy, and the compassion of a man who was naturally a gentleman. It made me expect good things from you, and you have not disappointed my expectations.”
She paused — but held up her hand at the same time, as a sign that she awaited no answer from me before she proceeded. When I entered the summer-house, no thought was in me of the woman in white. But now, Miss Halcombe’s own words had put the memory of my adventure back in my mind. It remained there throughout the interview — remained, and not without a result.
“As your friend,” she proceeded, “I am going to tell you, at once, in my own plain, blunt, downright language, that I have discovered your secret — without help or hint, mind, from any one else. Mr. Hartright, you have thoughtlessly allowed yourself to form an attachment — a serious and devoted attachment I am afraid — to my sister Laura. I don’t put you to the pain of confessing it in so many words, because I see and know that you are too honest to deny it. I don’t even blame you — I pity you for opening your heart to a hopeless affection. You have not attempted to take any underhand advantage — you have not spoken to my sister in secret. You are guilty of weakness and want of attention to your own best interests, but of nothing worse. If you had acted, in any single respect, less delicately and less modestly, I should have told you to leave the house without an instant’s notice, or an instant’s consultation of anybody. As it is, I blame the misfortune of your years and your position — I don’t blame you. Shake hands — I have given you pain; I am going to give you more, but there is no help for it — shake hands with your friend, Marian Halcombe, first.”
The sudden kindness — the warm, high-minded, fearless sympathy which met me on such mercifully equal terms, which appealed with such delicate and generous abruptness straight to my heart, my honour, and my courage, overcame me in an instant. I tried to look at her when she took my hand, but my eyes were dim. I tried to thank her, but my voice failed me.
“Listen to me,” she said, considerately avoiding all notice of my loss of self-control. “Listen to me, and let us get it over at once. It is a real true relief to me that I am not obliged, in what I have now to say, to enter into the question — the hard and cruel question as I think it — of social inequalities. Circumstances which will try you to the quick, spare me the ungracious necessity of paining a man who has lived in friendly intimacy under the same roof with myself by any humiliating reference to matters of rank and station. You must leave Limmeridge House, Mr. Hartright, before more harm is done. It is my duty to say that to you; and it would be equally my duty to say it, under precisely the same serious necessity, if you were the representative of the oldest and wealthiest family in England. You must leave us, not because you are a teacher of drawing ——”
She waited a moment, turned her face full on me, and reaching across the table, laid her hand firmly on my arm.
“Not because you are a teacher of drawing,” she repeated, “but because Laura Fairlie is engaged to be married.” [Chapter VIII, 805; page 31 in the 1861 volume edition]
For privacy's sake, this confidential exchange occurs not in the drawing-room of Limmeridge House, but out in the garden, in the summer-house. In confidence Marian Holbombe tells Walter Hartright about Laura's long-standing engagement to her father's choice of husband for her, Sir Percival Glyde, twenty-five years her senior. The furnishings (the rusticated chairs and table) indicate that the private interview occurs away from prying ears, so to speak. Marian is firm, resolved to spare Walter further pain, for she recognizes that he has fallen in love with his drawing pupil — and she with him. The scene dramatizes considerable internal conflict for both speakers: Marian looks severe, Walter depressed, for he must now leave in order to help Laura avoid the complication of having two suitors.
Collins, Wilkie. The Woman in White: A Novel. New York: Harper & Bros., 1861 (first printing, 15 August 1860; reissued in single-column format in 1902, 548 pages).
Collins, Wilkie. The Woman in White: A Novel. Harper's Weekly: A Journal of Civilization. Illustrated by John McLenan. Vols. III-IV (26 November 1859 through 8 September 1860).
Collins, Wilkie. The Woman in White. Ed. Maria K. Bachman and Don Richard Cox. Illustrated by Sir John Gilbert. London: Minerva, 2006.
Peters, Catherine. "Chapter Twelve: The Woman in White (1859-1860)." The King of the Inventors: A Life of Wilkie Collins. London: Minerva Press, 1992. Pp. 205-225.
Vann, J. Don. "The Woman in White in All the Year Round, 26 November — 25 August 1860." Victorian Novels in Serial. New York: MLA, 1985. Pp. 44-46.
Created 6 July 2024