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

it; but then, when one comes to go to bed, one does it in such a sneaking sort of way, as though one were in disgrace! And my sister, she thinks it a crime⁠—literally a sin, to go to sleep in a chair. Nobody ever caught her napping! By the by, Dr. Crofts, did you know that Mr. Crosbie whom Bernard Dale brought down to Allington? Lady Julia and he are staying at the same house now.”

“I met him once at Mrs. Dale’s.”

“Going to marry one of the girls, isn’t he?”

Whereupon Dr. Crofts explained that Mr. Crosbie was engaged to Lilian Dale.

“Ah, yes; a nice girl, I’m told. You know all those Dales are connections of ours. My sister Fanny married their uncle Orlando. My brother-in-law doesn’t like travelling, and so I don’t see very much of him; but of course I’m interested about the family.”

“They’re very old friends of mine,” said Crofts.

“Yes, I daresay. There are two girls, are there not?”

“Yes, two.”

“And Miss Lily is the youngest. There’s nothing about the elder one getting married, is there?”

“I’ve not heard anything of it.”

“A very pretty girl she is, too. I remember seeing her at her uncle’s last year. I shouldn’t wonder if she were to marry her cousin Bernard. He is to have the property, you know; and he’s my nephew.”

“I’m not quite sure that it’s a good thing for cousins to marry,” said Crofts.

“They do, you know, very often; and it suits some family arrangements. I suppose Dale must provide for them, and that would take one off his hands without any trouble.”

Dr. Crofts didn’t exactly see the matter in this light, but he was not anxious to argue it very closely with the earl. “The younger one,” he said, “has provided for herself.”

“What; by getting a husband? But I suppose Dale must give her something. They’re not married yet, you know, and, from what I hear, that fellow may prove a slippery customer. He’ll not marry her unless old Dale gives her something. You’ll see if he does. I’m told that he has got another string to his bow at Courcy Castle.”

Soon after this, Crofts took his horse and rode home, having promised the earl that he would dine with him again before long.

“It’ll be a great convenience to me if you’d come about that time,” said the earl, “and as you’re a bachelor perhaps you won’t mind it. You’ll come on Thursday at seven, will you? Take care of yourself. It’s as dark as pitch. John, go and open the first gates for Dr. Crofts.” And then the earl took himself off to bed.

Crofts, as he rode home, could not keep his mind from thinking of the two girls at Allington. “He’ll not marry her unless old Dale gives her something.” Had it come to that with the world, that a man must be bribed into keeping his engagement with a lady? Was there no romance left among mankind⁠—no feeling of chivalry? “He’s got another string to his bow at Courcy Castle,” said the earl; and his lordship seemed to be in no degree shocked as he said it. It was in this tone that men spoke of women nowadays, and yet he himself had felt such awe of the girl he loved, and such a fear lest he might injure her in her worldly position, that he had not dared to tell her that he loved her.

XXI John Eames Encounters Two Adventures, and Displays Great Courage in Both

Lily thought that her lover’s letter was all that it should be. She was not quite aware what might be the course of post between Courcy and Allington, and had not, therefore, felt very grievously disappointed when the letter did not come on the very first day. She had, however, in the course of the morning, walked down to the post-office, in order that she might be sure that it was not remaining there.

“Why, miss, they be all delivered; you know that,” said Mrs. Crump, the postmistress.

“But one might be left behind, I thought.”

“John Postman went up to the house this very day, with a newspaper for your mamma. I can’t make letters for people if folks don’t write them.”

“But they are left behind sometimes, Mrs. Crump. He wouldn’t come up with one letter if he’d got nothing else for anybody in the street.”

“Indeed but he would then. I wouldn’t let him leave a letter here no how, nor yet a paper. It’s no good you’re coming down here for letters, Miss Lily. If he don’t write to you, I can’t make him do it.” And so poor Lily went home discomforted.

But the letter came on the next morning, and all was right. According to her judgment it lacked nothing, either in fullness or in affection. When he told her how he had planned his early departure in order that he might avoid the pain of parting with her on the last moment, she smiled and pressed the paper, and rejoiced inwardly that she had got the better of him as to that manoeuvre. And then she kissed the words which told her that he had been glad to have her with him at the last moment. When he declared that he had been happier at Allington than he was at Courcy, she believed him thoroughly, and rejoiced that it should be so. And when he accused himself of being worldly, she excused him, persuading herself that he was nearly perfect in this respect as in others. Of course a man living in London, and having to earn his bread out in the world, must be more worldly than a country girl; but the fact of his being able to love such a girl, to choose such a one for his wife⁠—was not that alone sufficient proof that the world had not enslaved him? “My heart is on the Allington lawns,” he said; and then, as she read the words, she kissed the paper again.

In her eyes, and to her ears, and