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

not have played billiards in a habit.” Then she had put down her mace, and they had stood talking together in the recess of a large bow-window.

“And what did I promise?” said Crosbie.

“You know well enough. Not that it is a matter of any special interest to me; only, as you undertook to promise, of course my curiosity has been raised.”

“If it be of no special interest,” said Crosbie, “you will not object to absolve me from my promise.”

“That is just like you,” she said. “And how false you men always are. You made up your mind to buy my silence on a distasteful subject by pretending to offer me your future confidence; and now you tell me that you do not mean to confide in me.”

“You begin by telling me that the matter is one that does not in the least interest you.”

“That is so false again! You know very well what I meant. Do you remember what you said to me the day you came? and am I not bound to tell you after that, that your marriage with this or that young lady is not matter of special interest to me? Still, as your friend⁠—”

“Well, as my friend!”

“I shall be glad to know⁠—. But I am not going to beg for your confidence; only I tell you this fairly, that no man is so mean in my eyes as a man who fights under false colours.”

“And am I fighting under false colours?”

“Yes, you are.” And now, as she spoke, the Lady Alexandrina blushed beneath her hat; and dull as was the remaining light of the evening, Crosbie, looking into her face, saw her heightened colour. “Yes, you are. A gentleman is fighting under false colours who comes into a house like this, with a public rumour of his being engaged, and then conducts himself as though nothing of the kind existed. Of course, it is not anything to me specially; but that is fighting under false colours. Now, sir, you may redeem the promise you made me when you first came here⁠—or you may let it alone.”

It must be acknowledged that the lady was fighting her battle with much courage, and also with some skill. In three or four days Crosbie would be gone; and this victory, if it were ever to be gained, must be gained in those three or four days. And if there were to be no victory, then it would be only fair that Crosbie should be punished for his duplicity, and that she should be avenged as far as any revenge might be in her power. Not that she meditated any deep revenge, or was prepared to feel any strong anger. She liked Crosbie as well as she had ever liked any man. She believed that he liked her also. She had no conception of any very strong passion, but conceived that a married life was more pleasant than one of single bliss. She had no doubt that he had promised to make Lily Dale his wife, but so had he previously promised her, or nearly so. It was a fair game, and she would win it if she could. If she failed, she would show her anger; but she would show it in a mild, weak manner⁠—turning up her nose at Lily before Crosbie’s face, and saying little things against himself behind his back. Her wrath would not carry her much beyond that.

“Now, sir, you may redeem the promise you made me when you first came here⁠—or you may let it alone.” So she spoke, and then she turned her face away from him, gazing out into the darkness.

“Alexandrina!” he said.

“Well, sir? But you have no right to speak to me in that style. You know that you have no right to call me by my name in that way!”

“You mean that you insist upon your title?”

“All ladies insist on what you call their title, from gentlemen, except under the privilege of greater intimacy than you have the right to claim. You did not call Miss Dale by her Christian name till you had obtained permission, I suppose?”

“You used to let me call you so.”

“Never! Once or twice, when you have done so, I have not forbidden it, as I should have done. Very well, sir, as you have nothing to tell me, I will leave you. I must confess that I did not think you were such a coward.” And she prepared to go, gathering up the skirts of her habit, and taking up the whip which she had laid on the windowsill.

“Stay a moment, Alexandrina,” he said; “I am not happy, and you should not say words intended to make me more miserable.”

“And why are you unhappy?”

“Because⁠—I will tell you instantly, if I may believe that I am telling you only, and not the whole household.”

“Of course I shall not talk of it to others. Do you think that I cannot keep a secret?”

“It is because I have promised to marry one woman, and because I love another. I have told you everything now; and if you choose to say again that I am fighting under false colours I will leave the castle before you can see me again.”

“Mr. Crosbie!”

“Now you know it all, and may imagine whether or no I am very happy. I think you said it was time to dress;⁠—suppose we go?” And without further speech the two went off to their separate rooms.

Crosbie, as soon as he was alone in his chamber, sat himself down in his armchair, and went to work striving to make up his mind as to his future conduct. It must not be supposed that the declaration just made by him had been produced solely by his difficulty at the moment. The atmosphere of Courcy Castle had been at work upon him for the last week past. And every word that he had heard, and every word that he had spoken, had tended to destroy all that was good and true within