Framley Parsonage, Anthony Trollope [popular e readers txt] 📗

“All in good time, mother!”

“Ah, but the good time is passing away. Years run so very quickly. I hope you think about marrying, Ludovic.”

“But, mother, what if I brought you a wife that you did not approve?”

“I will approve of anyone that you love; that is⁠—”

“That is, if you love her also; eh, mother?”

“But I rely with such confidence on your taste. I know that you can like no one that is not ladylike and good.”

“Ladylike and good! Will that suffice?” said he, thinking of Lucy Robarts.

“Yes; it will suffice, if you love her. I don’t want you to care for money. Griselda will have a fortune that would have been convenient; but I do not wish you to care for that.” And thus, as they stood together in Miss Dunstable’s crowded room, the mother and son settled between themselves that the Lufton-Grantly alliance treaty was not to be ratified. “I suppose I must let Mrs. Grantly know,” said Lady Lufton to herself, as Griselda returned to her side. There had not been above a dozen words spoken between Lord Dumbello and his partner, but that young lady also had now fully made up her mind that the treaty above mentioned should never be brought into operation.

We must go back to our hostess, whom we should not have left for so long a time, seeing that this chapter is written to show how well she could conduct herself in great emergencies. She had declared that after awhile she would be able to leave her position near the entrance door, and find out her own peculiar friends among the crowd; but the opportunity for doing so did not come till very late in the evening. There was a continuation of arrivals; she was wearied to death with making little speeches, and had more than once declared that she must depute Mrs. Harold Smith to take her place.

That lady stuck to her through all her labours with admirable constancy, and made the work bearable. Without some such constancy on a friend’s part, it would have been unbearable. And it must be acknowledged that this was much to the credit of Mrs. Harold Smith. Her own hopes with reference to the great heiress had all been shattered, and her answer had been given to her in very plain language. But, nevertheless, she was true to her friendship, and was almost as willing to endure fatigue on the occasion as though she had a sister-in-law’s right in the house.

At about one o’clock her brother came. He had not yet seen Miss Dunstable since the offer had been made, and had now with difficulty been persuaded by his sister to show himself.

“What can be the use?” said he. “The game is up with me now;”⁠—meaning, poor, ruined ne’er-do-well, not only that that game with Miss Dunstable was up, but that the great game of his whole life was being brought to an uncomfortable termination.

“Nonsense,” said his sister. “Do you mean to despair because a man like the Duke of Omnium wants his money? What has been good security for him will be good security for another;” and then Mrs. Harold Smith made herself more agreeable than ever to Miss Dunstable.

When Miss Dunstable was nearly worn out, but was still endeavouring to buoy herself up by a hope of the still-expected great arrival⁠—for she knew that the hero would show himself only at a very late hour if it were to be her good fortune that he showed himself at all⁠—Mr. Sowerby walked up the stairs. He had schooled himself to go through this ordeal with all the cool effrontery which was at his command; but it was clearly to be seen that all his effrontery did not stand him in sufficient stead, and that the interview would have been embarrassing had it not been for the genuine good-humour of the lady.

“Here is my brother,” said Mrs. Harold Smith, showing by the tremulousness of the whisper that she looked forward to the meeting with some amount of apprehension.

“How do you do, Mr. Sowerby?” said Miss Dunstable, walking almost into the doorway to welcome him. “Better late than never.”

“I have only just got away from the House,” said he, as he gave her his hand.

“Oh, I know well that you are sans reproche among senators;⁠—as Mr. Harold Smith is sans peur;⁠—eh, my dear?”

“I must confess that you have contrived to be uncommonly severe upon them both,” said Mrs. Harold, laughing; “and as regards poor Harold, most undeservedly so: Nathaniel is here, and may defend himself.”

“And no one is better able to do so on all occasions. But, my dear Mr. Sowerby, I am dying of despair. Do you think he’ll come?”

“He? who?”

“You stupid man⁠—as if there were more than one he! There were two, but the other has been.”

“Upon my word, I don’t understand,” said Mr. Sowerby, now again at his ease. “But can I do anything? shall I go and fetch anyone? Oh, Tom Towers! I fear I can’t help you. But here he is at the foot of the stairs!” And then Mr. Sowerby stood back with his sister to make way for the great representative man of the age.

“Angels and ministers of grace, assist me!” said Miss Dunstable. “How on earth am I to behave myself? Mr. Sowerby, do you think that I ought to kneel down? My dear, will he have a reporter at his back in the royal livery?” And then Miss Dunstable advanced two or three steps⁠—not into the doorway, as she had done for Mr. Sowerby⁠—put out her hand, and smiled her sweetest on Mr. Towers, of the Jupiter.

“Mr. Towers,” she said, “I am delighted to have this opportunity of seeing you in my own house.”

“Miss Dunstable, I am immensely honoured by the privilege of being here,” said he.

“The honour done is all conferred on me,” and she bowed and curtseyed with very stately grace. Each thoroughly understood the badinage of the other; and then, in a few moments, they were engaged in