‘And of course I should, to anybody but you. I do like to abuse him to you.’
‘Lily, Lily!’
‘So I do. It’s so hard to knock any fire out of you, that when one does find the place where the flint lies, one can’t help hammering at it. What did he mean by saying that I shouldn’t get up on Sunday? Of course I shall get up if I like it.’
‘Not if mamma asks you not?’
‘Oh, but she won’t, unless he interferes and dictates to her. Oh, Bell, what a tyrant he would be if he were married!’
‘Would he?’
‘And how submissive you would be, if you were his wife! It’s a thousand pities that you are not in love with each other – that is, if you are not.’
‘Lily, I thought that there was a promise between us about that.’
‘Ah! but that was in other days. Things are all altered since that promise was given – all the world has been altered.’ And as she said this the tone of her voice was changed, and it had become almost sad. ‘I feel as though I ought to be allowed now to speak about anything I please.’
‘You shall, if it pleases you, my pet.’
‘You see how it is, Bell; I can never again have anything of my own to talk about.’
‘Oh, my darling, do not say that.’
‘But it is so, Bell; and why not say it? Do you think I never say it to myself in the hours when I am all alone, thinking over it – thinking, thinking, thinking. You must not – you must not grudge to let me talk of it sometimes.’
‘I will not grudge you anything – only I cannot believe that it must be so always.’
‘Ask yourself, Bell, how it would be with you. But I sometimes fancy that you measure me differently from yourself.’
‘Indeed I do, for I know how much better you are.’
‘I am not so much better as to be ever able to forget all that. I know I never shall do so. I have made up my mind about it clearly and with an absolute certainty.’
‘Lily, Lily, Lily! pray do not say so.’
‘But I do say it. And yet I have not been very mopish and melancholy; have I, Bell? I do think I deserve some little credit, and yet, I declare, you won’t allow me the least privilege in the world.’
‘What privilege would you wish me to give me?’
‘To talk about Dr Crofts.’
‘Lily, you are a wicked, wicked tyrant.’ And Bell leaned over her, and fell upon her, and kissed her, hiding her own face in the gloom of the evening. After that it came to be an accepted understanding between them that Bell was not altogether indifferent to Dr Crofts.
‘You heard what he said, my darling,’ Mrs Dale said the next day, as the three were in the room together after Dr Crofts was gone. Mrs Dale was standing on one side of the bed, and Bell on the other, while Lily was scolding them both. ‘You can get up for an hour or two tomorrow, but he thinks you had better not go out of the room.’
‘What would be the good of that, mamma? I am so tired of looking always at the same paper. It is such a tiresome paper. It makes one count the pattern over and over again. I wonder how you ever can live here.’
‘I’ve got used to it, you see.’
‘I never can get used to that sort of thing; but go on counting, and counting, and counting, I’ll tell you what I should like; and I’m sure it would be the best thing, too.’
‘And what would you like?’ said Bell.
‘Just to get up at nine o’clock tomorrow, and go to church as though nothing had happened. Then, when Dr Crofts came in the evening, you would tell him I was down at the school.’
‘I wouldn’t quite advise that,’ said Mrs Dale.
‘It would give him such a delightful start. And when he found I didn’t die immediately, as of course I ought to do according to rule, he would be so disgusted.’
‘It would be very ungrateful, to say the least of it,’ said Bell.
‘No, it wouldn’t, a bit. He needn’t come, unless he likes it. And I don’t believe he comes to see me at all. It’s all very well, mamma, your looking in that way; but I’m sure it’s true. And I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll pretend to be bad again, otherwise the poor man will be robbed of his only happiness.’
‘I suppose we must allow her to say what she likes till she gets well,’ said Mrs Dale, laughing. It was now nearly dark, and Mrs Dale did not see that Bell’s hand had crept under the bed-clothes, and taken hold of that of her sister. ‘It’s true, mamma,’ continued Lily, ‘and I defy her to deny it. I would forgive him for keeping me in bed if he would only make her fall in love with him.’
‘She has made a bargain, mamma,’ said Bell, ‘that she is to say whatever she likes till she gets well.’
‘I am to say whatever I like always; that was the bargain, and I mean to stand to it.’
On the following Sunday Lily did get up, but did not leave her mother’s bedroom. There she was, seated in that half-dignified and half-luxurious state which belongs to the first getting up of an invalid, when Dr Crofts called. There she had eaten her tiny bit of roast mutton, and had called her mother a stingy old creature, because she would not permit another morsel; and there she had drunk her half glass of port wine, pretending that it was very bad, and twice worse than the doctor’s physic; and there, Sunday though it was, she had fully enjoyed the last hour of daylight, reading that exquisite new novel which had just completed itself, amidst the jarring criticisms of the youth and age of the reading public.
‘I am quite sure she was right in accepting him, Bell,’ she said, putting down the book as the light was fading, and beginning to praise the story.
‘It was a matter of course,’ said Bell. ‘It always is right in the novels. That’s why I don’t like them. They are too sweet.’
‘That’s why I do like them, because they are so sweet. A sermon is not to tell you what you are, but what you ought to be; and a novel should tell you not what you are to get, but what you’d like to got.’
‘If so, then I’d go back to the old school, and have the heroine really falling among thieves; or else nursing a wounded hero, and describing the battle from the window.1 We’ve got tired of that; or else the people who write can’t do it nowadays. But if we are to have real life, let it be real.’
‘No, Bell, no!’ said Lily. ‘Real life sometimes is so painful.’ Then her sister, in a moment, was down on the floor at her feet, kissing her hand and caressing her knees, and praying that the wound might be healed.
On that morning Lily had succeeded in inducing her sister to tell her all that had been said by Dr Crofts. All that had been said by herself also, Bell had intended to tell; but when it came to this part of the story, her account was very lame. ‘I don’t think I said anything,’ she said. ‘But silence always gives consent. He’ll know that,’ Lily had rejoined. ‘No, he will not; my silence didn’t give any consent; I’m sure of that. And he didn’t think that it did.’ ‘But you didn't mean to refuse him?’ ‘I think I did. I don’t think I Knew what I meant; and it was safer, therefore, to look no, than to look yes. If I didn’t say it, I’m sure I looked it.’ ‘But you wouldn’t refuse him now?’ asked Lily. ‘I don’t know,’ said Bell. ‘It seems as though I should want years to make up my mind; and he won’t ask me again.’
Bell was still at her sister’s feet, caressing them, and praying with all her heart that that wound might be healed in due time, when Mrs Dale came in and announced the doctor’s daily visit. ‘Then I’ll go,’ said Bell.
‘Indeed you won’t,’ said Lily. ‘He’s coming simply to make a morning call, and nobody need run away. Now, Dr Crofts, you need not come and stand over me with your watch, for I won’t let you touch my hand except to shake hands with me;’ and then she held her hand out to him. ‘And all you’ll know of my tongue you’ll learn from the sound.’
‘I don’t care in the least for your tongue.’
‘I dare say not, and yet you may some of these days. I can speak out, if I like it; can’t I, mamma?’
‘I should think Dr Crofts knows that by this time, my dear.’
‘I don’t know. There are some things gentlemen are very slow to learn. But you must sit down, Dr Crofts, and make yourself comfortable and polite; for you must understand that you are not master here any longer. I am out of bed now, and your reign is over.’
‘That’s the gratitude of the world, all through,’ said Mrs Dale.
‘Who is ever grateful to a doctor? He only cures you that he may triumph over some other doctor, and declare, as he goes by Dr Gruffen’s door. “There, had she called you in, she’d have been dead before now; or else would have been ill for twelve months.” Don’t you jump for joy when Dr Gruffen’s patients die?’
‘Of course I do – out in the market-place, so that everybody shall see me,’ said the doctor.
‘Lily, how can you say such shocking things?’ said her sister.
Then the doctor did sit down, and they were all very cosy together over the fire, talking about things which were not medical, or only half medical in their appliance. By degrees the conversation came round to Mrs Eames and to John Eames. Two or three days since, Crofts had told Mrs Dale of that affair at the railway station, of which up to that time she was assured that young Eames had heard nothing. Mrs Dale, when she was assured that young Eames had given Crosbie a tremendous thrashing – the tidings of the affair which had got themselves substantiated at Guestwick so described the nature of the encounter – could not withhold some meed of applause.
‘Dear boy!’ she said, almost involuntarily. ‘Dear boy! it came from the honestness of his heart!’ And then she gave special injunctions to the doctor – injunctions which were surely unnecessary – that no word of the matter should be whispered before Lily.
‘I was at the Manor, yesterday,’ said the doctor, ‘and the earl would talk about nothing but Master Johnny. He says he’s the finest fellow going.’ Whereupon Mrs Dale touched him with her foot, fearing that the conversation might be led away in the direction of Johnny’s prowess.
‘I am so glad,’ said Lily. ‘I always knew that they’d find John out at last.’
‘And Lady Julia is just as fond of him,’ said the doctor.
‘Dear me!’ said Lily. ‘Suppose they were to make up a match!’
‘Lily, how can you be so absurd?’
‘Let me see; what relation would he be to us? He would certainly be Bernard’s uncle, and uncle Christopher’s half brother-in-law. Wouldn’t it be odd?’
‘It would rather,’ said Mrs Dale.
‘I hope he’ll be civil to Bernard. Don’t you, Bell? Is he to give up the Income-tax Office, Dr Crofts?’
‘I didn’t hear that that was settled yet.’ And so they went on talking about John Eames.
‘Joking apart,’ said Lily, ‘l am very glad that Lord De Guest has taken him by the hand. Not that I think an earl is better than anybody else, but because it shows that people are beginning to understand that he has got something in him. I always said that they who laughed at John would see him hold up his head yet.’ All which words sank deep into Mrs Dale’s mind. If only, in some coming time, her pet might be taught to love this new young hero! But then would not that last heroic deed of his militate most strongly against any possibility of such love!
‘And now I may as well be going,’ said the doctor, rising from his chair. At this time Bell had left the room, but Mrs Dale was still there.
‘You need not be in such a hurry, especially this evening,’ said Lily.
‘Why especially this evening?’
‘Because it will be the last. Sit down again, Doctor Crofts. I’ve got a little speech to make to you. I’ve been preparing it all the morning, and you must give me an opportunity of speaking it.’
‘I‘ll come the day after tomorrow, and I’ll hear it then.’
‘But I choose, sir, that you should hear it now. Am I not to be obeyed when I first get up on to my own throne? Dear, dear Dr Crofts, how am I to thank you for all that you have done?’
‘How are any of us to thank him?’ said Mrs Dale.
‘I hate thanks,’ said the doctor. ‘One kind glance of the eye is worth them all, and I’ve had many such in this house.’
‘You have our hearts’ love, at any rate,’ said Mrs Dale.
‘God bless you all!’ said he, as he prepared to go.
‘But I haven’t made my speech yet,’ said Lily. ‘And to tell the truth, mamma, you must go away, or I shall never be able to make it. It’s very improper, is it not, turning you out, but it shall only take three minutes.’ They Mrs Dale, with some little joking word, left the room; but, as she left it, her mind was hardly at ease. Ought she to have gone, leaving it to Lily’s discretion to say what words she might think fit to Dr Crofts? Hitherto she had never doubted her daughters – not even their discretion; and therefore it had been natural to her to go when she was bidden. But as she went downstairs she had her doubts whether she was right or on.
‘Dr Crofts,’ said Lily, as soon as they were alone. ‘Sir down there, close to me. I want to ask you a question. What was it you said to Bell when you were alone with her the other evening in the parlour?’
The doctor sat for a moment without answering, and Lily, who was watching him closely, could see by the light of the fire that he had been startled – had almost shuddered as the question was asked him.
‘What did I say to her?’ and he repeated her words in a very low voice. ‘I asked her if she could love me, and be my wife.’
‘And what answer did she make to you?’
‘What answer did she make? She simply refused me.’
‘No, no, no; don’t believe her, Dr Crofts. It was not so – I think it was not so. Mind you, I can say nothing as coming from her. She has not told me her own mind. But if you really love her, she will be mad to refuse you.’
‘I do love her, Lily; that at any rate is true.’
‘Then go to her again. I am speaking for myself now. I cannot afford to lose such a brother as you would be. I love you so dearly that I cannot spare you. And she – I think she’ll learn to love you as you would wish to be loved. You know her nature, how silent she is, and averse to talk about herself. She has confessed nothing to me but this – that you spoke to her and took her by surprise. Are we to have another chance? I know how wrong I am to ask such a question. But, after all, is not the truth the best?’
‘Another chance!’
‘I know what you mean, and I think she is worthy to be your wife. I do, indeed; and if so, she must be very worthy. You won’t tell of me, will you now, doctor?’
‘No, I won’t tell of you.’
‘And you’ll try again?’
‘Yes; I’ll try again.’
‘God bless you, my brother! I hope – I hope you’ll be my brother.’ Then, as he put out his hand to her once more, she raised her head towards him, and he, stooping down, kissed her forehead. ‘Make mamma come to me,’ were the last words she spoke as he went out at the door.
‘So you’ve made your speech,’ said Mrs Dale.
‘Yes, mamma.’
‘I hope it was a discreet speech.’
‘I hope it was, mamma. But it has made me so tired, and I believe I’ll go to bed. Do you know I don’t think I should have done much good down at the school today?’
Then Mrs Dale, in her anxiety to repair what injury might have been done to her daughter by over-exertion, omitted any further mention of the farewell speech.
Dr Crofts as he rode home enjoyed but little of the triumph of a successful lover. ‘It may be that she’s right,’ he said to himself; ‘and, at any rate, I‘ll ask again.’ Nevertheless, that ‘No’ which Bell had spoken, and had repeated, still sounded in his ears harsh an conclusive. There are men to whom a peal of noes rattling about their ears never takes the sound of a true denial, and others to whom the word once pronounced, be it whispered ever so softly, comes as though it were an unchangeable verdict from the supreme judgement-seat.
CHAPTER 43
FIE, FIE!
WILL ANY reader remember the loves – no, not the loves; that word is so decidedly ill-applied as to be incapable of awakening the remembrance of any reader; but the flirtations – of Lady Dumbello and Mr Plantagenet Palliser? Those flirtations, as they had been carried on at Courcy Castle, were laid bare in all their enormities to the eye of the public, and it must confessed that if the eye of the public was shocked, that eye must be shocked very easily.
But the eye of the public was shocked, and people who were particular as to their morals said very strange things. Lady De Courcy herself said very strange things indeed, shaking her head, and dropping mysterious words; whereas Lady Clandidlem spoke much more openly, declaring her opinion that Lady Dumbello would be off before May. They both agreed that it would not be altogether bad for Lord Dumbello that he should lose, but shook their heads very sadly when they spoke of poor Plantagenet Palliser. As to the lady’s fate, that lady whom they had both almost worshipped during the days at Courcy Castle – they did not seem not seem to trouble themselves about that.
And it must be admitted that Mr Palliser had been a little imprudent – imprudent, that is, if he knew anything about the rumours afloat – seeing that soon after his visit at Courcy Castle he had gone down to Lady Hartletop’s place in Shropshire, at which the Dumbellos intended to spend the winter, and on leaving it had expressed his intention of returning in February. The Hartletop people had pressed him very much – the pressure having come with peculiar force from Lord Dumbello. Therefore it is reasonable to suppose that the Hartletop people had at any rate not heard of the rumour.
Mr Plantagenet Palliser spent his Christmas with his uncle, the Duke of Omnium, at Gatherum Castle. That is to say, he reached the castle in time for dinner on Christmas Eve, and left it on the morning after Christmas Day. This was in accordance with the usual practice of his life, and the tenants, dependants, and followers of the Omnium interest were always delighted to see this manifestation of a healthy English domestic family feeling between the duke and his nephew. But the amount of intercourse on such occasions between them was generally trifling. The duke would smile as he put out his right hand to his nephew, and say –
The Small House at Allington Page 56