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

seemed, was well inclined to be pleased. She said no word to him during dinner about Lily; and yet she spoke about the Dales, and about Allington, showing that she knew in what quarters he had been staying, and then she alluded to their last parties in London⁠—those occasions on which, as Crosbie now remembered, the intercourse between them had almost been tender. It was manifest to him that at any rate she did not wish to quarrel with him. It was manifest, also, that she had some little hesitation in speaking to him about his engagement. He did not for a moment doubt that she was aware of it. And in this way matters went on between them till the ladies left the room.

“So you’re going to be married, too,” said the Honourable George, by whose side Crosbie found himself seated when the ladies were gone. Crosbie was employing himself upon a walnut, and did not find it necessary to make any answer.

“It’s the best thing a fellow can do,” continued George; “that is, if he has been careful to look to the main chance⁠—if he hasn’t been caught napping, you know. It doesn’t do for a man to go hanging on by nothing till he finds himself an old man.”

“You’ve feathered your own nest, at any rate.”

“Yes; I’ve got something in the scramble, and I mean to keep it. Where will John be when the governor goes off the hooks? Porlock wouldn’t give him a bit of bread and cheese and a glass of beer to save his life;⁠—that is to say, not if he wanted it.”

“I’m told your elder brother is going to be married.”

“You’ve heard that from John. He’s spreading that about everywhere to take a rise out of me. I don’t believe a word of it. Porlock never was a marrying man;⁠—and, what’s more, from all I hear, I don’t think he’ll live long.”

In this way Crosbie escaped from his own difficulty; and when he rose from the dinner-table had not as yet been driven to confess anything to his own discredit.

But the evening was not yet over. When he returned to the drawing-room he endeavoured to avoid any conversation with the countess herself, believing that the attack would more probably come from her than from her daughter. He, therefore, got into conversation first with one and then with another of the girls, till at last he found himself again alone with Alexandrina.

“Mr. Crosbie,” she said, in a low voice, as they were standing together over one of the distant tables, with their backs to the rest of the company, “I want you to tell me something about Miss Lilian Dale.”

“About Miss Lilian Dale!” he said, repeating her words.

“Is she very pretty?”

“Yes; she certainly is pretty.”

“And very nice, and attractive, and clever⁠—and all that is delightful? Is she perfect?”

“She is very attractive,” said he; “but I don’t think she’s perfect.”

“And what are her faults?”

“That question is hardly fair, is it? Suppose anyone were to ask me what were your faults, do you think I should answer the question?”

“I am quite sure you would, and make a very long list of them, too. But as to Miss Dale, you ought to think her perfect. If a gentleman were engaged to me, I should expect him to swear before all the world that I was the very pink of perfection.”

“But supposing the gentleman were not engaged to you?”

“That would be a different thing.”

“I am not engaged to you,” said Crosbie. “Such happiness and such honour are, I fear, very far beyond my reach. But, nevertheless, I am prepared to testify as to your perfection anywhere.”

“And what would Miss Dale say?”

“Allow me to assure you that such opinions as I may choose to express of my friends will be my own opinions, and not depend on those of anyone else.”

“And you think, then, that you are not bound to be enslaved as yet? How many more months of such freedom are you to enjoy?”

Crosbie remained silent for a minute before he answered, and then he spoke in a serious voice. “Lady Alexandrina,” said he, “I would beg from you a great favour.”

“What is the favour, Mr. Crosbie?”

“I am quite in earnest. Will you be good enough, kind enough, enough my friend, not to connect my name again with that of Miss Dale while I am here?”

“Has there been a quarrel?”

“No; there has been no quarrel. I cannot explain to you now why I make this request; but to you I will explain it before I go.”

“Explain it to me!”

“I have regarded you as more than an acquaintance⁠—as a friend. In days now past there were moments when I was almost rash enough to hope that I might have said even more than that. I confess that I had no warrant for such hopes, but I believe that I may still look on you as a friend?”

“Oh, yes, certainly,” said Alexandrina, in a very low voice, and with a certain amount of tenderness in her tone. “I have always regarded you as a friend.”

“And therefore I venture to make the request. The subject is not one on which I can speak openly, without regret, at the present moment. But to you, at least, I promise that I will explain it all before I leave Courcy.”

He at any rate succeeded in mystifying Lady Alexandrina. “I don’t believe he is engaged a bit,” she said to Lady Amelia Gazebee that night.

“Nonsense, my dear. Lady Julia wouldn’t speak of it in that certain way if she didn’t know. Of course he doesn’t wish to have it talked about.”

“If ever he has been engaged to her, he has broken it off again,” said Lady Alexandrina.

“I dare say he will, my dear, if you give him encouragement,” said the married sister, with great sisterly good-nature.

XVIII Lily Dale’s First Love-Letter

Crosbie was rather proud of himself when he went to bed. He had succeeded in baffling the charge made against him, without