The Small House at Allington, Anthony Trollope [best ebook reader for chromebook .txt] 📗

kept five, ten, fifteen minutes, as he declared⁠—though I believe in my heart that the time never exceeded three⁠—while Richard was putting off the trappings of his work and putting on the trappings of his grandeur.

If people would only have their doors opened to you by such assistance as may come most easily and naturally to the work! I stood lately for some minutes on a Tuesday afternoon at a gallant portal, and as I waxed impatient a pretty maiden came and opened it. She was a pretty maiden, though her hands and face and apron told tales of the fire-grates. “Laws, sir,” she said, “the visitors’ day is Wednesday; and if you would come then, there would be the man in livery!” She took my card with the corner of her apron, and did just as well as the man in livery; but what would have happened to her had her little speech been overheard by her mistress?

Crosbie hated the house in St. John’s Wood, and therefore the coming of the countess was a relief to him. Portman Square was easily to be reached, and the hospitalities of the countess would not be pressed upon him so strongly as those of the Gazebees. When he first called he was shown into the great family dining-room, which looked out towards the back of the house. The front windows were, of course, closed, as the family was not supposed to be in London. Here he remained in the room for some quarter of an hour, and then the countess descended upon him in all her grandeur. Perhaps he had never before seen her so grand. Her dress was very large, and rustled through the broad doorway, as if demanding even a broader passage. She had on a wonder of a bonnet, and a velvet mantle that was nearly as expansive as her petticoats. She threw her head a little back as she accosted him, and he instantly perceived that he was enveloped in the fumes of an affectionate but somewhat contemptuous patronage. In old days he had liked the countess, because her manner to him had always been flattering. In his intercourse with her he had been able to feel that he gave quite as much as he got, and that the countess was aware of the fact. In all the circumstances of their acquaintance the ascendancy had been with him, and therefore the acquaintance had been a pleasant one. The countess had been a good-natured, agreeable woman, whose rank and position had made her house pleasant to him; and therefore he had consented to shine upon her with such light as he had to give. Why was it that the matter was reversed, now that there was so much stronger a cause for good feeling between them? He knew that there was such change, and with bitter internal upbraidings he acknowledged to himself that this woman was getting the mastery over him. As the friend of the countess he had been a great man in her eyes;⁠—in all her little words and looks she had acknowledged his power; but now, as her son-in-law, he was to become a very little man⁠—such as was Mortimer Gazebee!

“My dear Adolphus,” she said, taking both his hands, “the day is coming very near now; is it not?”

“Very near, indeed,” he said.

“Yes, it is very near. I hope you feel yourself a happy man.”

“Oh, yes, that’s of course.”

“It ought to be. Speaking very seriously, I mean that it ought to be a matter of course. She is everything that a man should desire in a wife. I am not alluding now to her rank, though of course you feel what a great advantage she gives you in this respect.”

Crosbie muttered something as to his consciousness of having drawn a prize in the lottery; but he so muttered it as not to convey to the lady’s ears a proper sense of his dependent gratitude. “I know of no man more fortunate than you have been,” she continued; “and I hope that my dear girl will find that you are fully aware that it is so. I think that she is looking rather fagged. You have allowed her to do more than was good for her in the way of shopping.”

“She has done a good deal, certainly,” said Crosbie.

“She is so little used to anything of that kind! But of course, as things have turned out, it was necessary that she should see to these things herself.”

“I rather think she liked it,” said Crosbie.

“I believe she will always like doing her duty. We are just going now to Madame Millefranc’s, to see some silks;⁠—perhaps you would wish to go with us?”

Just at this moment Alexandrina came into the room, and looked as though she were in all respects a smaller edition of her mother. They were both well-grown women, with handsome, large figures, and a certain air about them which answered almost for beauty. As to the countess, her face, on close inspection, bore, as it was entitled to do, deep signs of age; but she so managed her face that any such close inspection was never made; and her general appearance for her time of life was certainly good. Very little more than this could be said in favour of her daughter.

“Oh dear, no, mamma,” she said, having heard her mother’s last words. “He’s the worst person in a shop in the world. He likes nothing, and dislikes nothing. Do you, Adolphus?”

“Indeed I do. I like all the cheap things, and dislike all the dear things.”

“Then you certainly shall not go with us to Madame Millefranc’s,” said Alexandrina.

“It would not matter to him there, you know, my dear,” said the countess, thinking perhaps of the suggestion she had lately made to Mr. Gazebee.

On this occasion Crosbie managed to escape, simply promising to return to Portman Square in the evening after dinner. “By the by, Adolphus,” said the countess, as he handed her into the hired carriage which stood