The Last Chronicle of Barset

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  A HERO AT HOME.

  On the morning after his visit to Miss Demolines John Eames foundhimself at the Paddington Station asking for a ticket for Guestwick,and as he picked up his change another gentleman also demandeda ticket for the same place. Had Guestwick been as Liverpool orManchester, Eames would have thought nothing about it. It is a matterof course that men should always be going from London to Liverpooland Manchester; but it seemed odd to him that two men should wantfirst-class tickets for so small a place as Guestwick at the samemoment. And when, afterwards, he was placed by the guard in thesame carriage with this other traveller, he could not but feelsome little curiosity. The man was four or five years Johnny'ssenior, a good-looking fellow, with a pleasant face, and the outwardappurtenances of a gentleman. The intelligent reader will no doubtbe aware that the stranger was Major Grantly; but the intelligentreader has in this respect had much advantage over John Eames, whoup to this time had never even heard of his cousin Grace Crawley'slover. "I think you were asking for a ticket for Guestwick," saidJohnny;--whereupon the major owned that such was the case. "I livedat Guestwick the greater part of my life," said Johnny, "and it'sthe dullest, dearest little town in all England." "I never wasthere before," said the major, "and indeed I can hardly say I amgoing there now. I shall only pass through it." Then he got out hisnewspaper, and Johnny also got out his, and for a time there was noconversation between them. John remembered how holy was the errandupon which he was intent, and gathered his thoughts together,resolving that having so great a matter on his mind he would thinkabout nothing else and speak about nothing at all. He was goingdown to Allington to ask Lily Dale for the last time whether shewould be his wife; to ascertain whether he was to be successful orunsuccessful in the one great wish of his life; and, as such wasthe case with him,--as he had in hand a thing so vital, it couldbe nothing to him whether the chance companion of his voyage wasan agreeable or a disagreeable person. He himself, in any of theordinary circumstances of life, was prone enough to talk with anyone he might meet. He could have travelled for twelve hours togetherwith an old lady, and could listen to her or make her listen to himwithout half an hour's interruption. But this journey was made on noordinary occasion, and it behoved him to think of Lily. Therefore,after the first little almost necessary effort at civility, he fellback into gloomy silence. He was going to do his best to win LilyDale, and this doing of his best would require all his thought andall his energy.

  And probably Major Grantly's mind was bent in the same direction. He,too, had this work before him, and could not look upon his work as athing that was altogether pleasant. He might probably get that whichhe was intent upon obtaining. He knew,--he almost knew,--that he hadwon the heart of the girl whom he was seeking. There had been thatbetween him and her which justified him in supposing that he was dearto her, although no expression of affection had ever passed from herlips to his ears. Men may know all that they require to know on thatsubject without any plainly spoken words. Grace Crawley had spokenno word, and yet he had known,--at any rate had not doubted, thathe could have the place in her heart of which he desired to be themaster. She would never surrender herself altogether till she hadtaught herself to be sure of him to whom she gave herself. But shehad listened to him with silence that had not rebuked him, and he hadtold himself that he might venture, without fear of that rebuke asto which the minds of some men are sensitive to a degree which othermen cannot even understand. But for all this Major Grantly could notbe altogether happy as to his mission. He would ask Grace Crawleyto be his wife; but he would be ruined by his own success. And theremembrance that he would be severed from all his own family by thething that he was doing, was very bitter to him. In generosity hemight be silent about this to Grace, but who can endure to be silenton such a subject to the woman who is to be his wife? And then itwould not be possible for him to abstain from explanation. He was nowfollowing her down to Allington, a step which he certainly would nothave taken but for the misfortune which had befallen her father, andhe must explain to her in some sort why he did so. He must say toher,--if not in so many words, still almost as plainly as words couldspeak,--I am here now to ask you to be my wife, because you speciallyrequire the protection and countenance of the man who loves you, inthe present circumstances of your father's affairs. He knew that hewas doing right;--perhaps had some idea that he was doing nobly; butthis very appreciation of his own good qualities made the task beforehim the more difficult.

  Major Grantly had The Times, and John Eames had the Daily News, andthey exchanged papers. One had the last Saturday, and the other thelast Spectator, and they exchanged those also. Both had the Pall MallGazette, of which enterprising periodical they gradually came todiscuss the merits and demerits, thus falling into conversation atlast, in spite of the weight of the mission on which each of them wasintent. Then, at last, when they were within half-an-hour of the endof their journey, Major Grantly asked his companion what was the bestinn at Guestwick. He had at first been minded to go on to Allingtonat once,--to go on to Allington and get his work done, and thenreturn home or remain there, or find the nearest inn with a decentbed, as circumstances might direct him. But on reconsideration, as hedrew nearer to the scene of his future operations, he thought thatit might be well for him to remain that night at Guestwick. He didnot quite know how far Allington was from Guestwick, but he did knowthat it was still mid-winter, and that the days were very short. "TheMagpie" was the best inn, Johnny said. Having lived at Guestwick allhis life, and having a mother living there now, he had never himselfput up at "The Magpie," but he believed it to be a good country inn.They kept post-horses there, he knew. He did not tell the strangerthat his late old friend, Lord De Guest, and his present old friend,Lady Julia, always hired post-horses from "The Magpie," but hegrounded his ready assertion on the remembrance of that fact. "Ithink I shall stay there to-night," said the major. "You'll find itpretty comfortable, I don't doubt," said Johnny. "Though, indeed, italways seems to me that a man alone at an inn has a very bad time ofit. Reading is all very well, but one gets tired of it at last. Andthen I hate horse-hair chairs." "It isn't very delightful," said themajor, "but beggars mustn't be choosers." Then there was a pause,after which the major spoke again. "You don't happen to know whichway Allington lies?"

  "Allington!" said Johnny.

  "Yes, Allington. Is there not a village called Allington?"

  "There is a village called Allington, certainly. It lies over there."And Johnny pointed with his finger through the window. "As you do notknow the country you can see nothing, but I can see the Allingtontrees at this moment."

  "I suppose there is no inn at Allington?"

  "There's a public-house, with a very nice clean bedroom. It iscalled the 'Red Lion.' Mrs. Forrard keeps it. I would quite as soonstay there as at 'The Magpie.' Only if they don't expect you, theywouldn't have much for dinner."

  "Then you know the village of Allington?"

  "Yes, I know the village of Allington very well. I have friendsliving there. Indeed, I may say I know everybody in Allington."

  "Do you know Mrs. Dale?"

  "Mrs. Dale?" said Johnny. "Yes, I know Mrs. Dale. I have known Mrs.Dale pretty nearly all my life." Who could this man be who was goingdown to see Mrs. Dale,--Mrs. Dale, and consequently, Lily Dale?He thought that he knew Mrs. Dale so well, that she could have novisitor of whom he would not be entitled to have some knowledge. ButMajor Grantly had nothing more to say at the moment about Mrs. Dale.He had never seen Mrs. Dale in his life, and was now going to herhouse, not to see her, but a friend of hers. He found that he couldnot very well explain this to a stranger, and therefore at the momenthe said nothing further. But Johnny would not allow the subject to bedropped. "Have you known Mrs. Dale long?" he asked.

  "I have not the pleasure of knowing her at all," said the major.

  "I thought, perhaps, by your asking after her--"

  "I intend to call upon her, that is all. I suppose they will havean omnibus her
e from 'The Magpie?'" Eames said that there no doubtwould be an omnibus from "The Magpie," and then they were at theirjourney's end.

  For the present we will follow John Eames, who went at once to hismother's house. It was his intention to remain there for two or threedays, and then go over to the house, or rather to the cottage, ofhis great ally Lady Julia, which lay just beyond Guestwick Manor,and somewhat nearer to Allington than to the town of Guestwick. Hehad made up his mind that he would not himself go over to Allingtontill he could do so from Guestwick Cottage, as it was called,feeling that, under certain untoward circumstances,--should untowardcircumstances arise,--Lady Julia's sympathy might be more endurablethan that of his mother. But he would take care that it should beknown at Allington that he was in the neighbourhood. He understoodthe necessary strategy of his campaign too well to suppose that hecould startle Lily into acquiescence.

  With his own mother and sister, John Eames was in these days quite ahero. He was a hero with them now, because in his early boyish daysthere had been so little about him that was heroic. Then there hadbeen a doubt whether he would ever earn his daily bread, and he hadbeen a very heavy burden on the slight family resources in the matterof jackets and trousers. The pride taken in our Johnny had not beengreat, though the love felt for him had been warm. But graduallythings had changed, and John Eames had become heroic in his mother'seyes. A chance circumstance had endeared him to Earl De Guest, andfrom that moment things had gone well with him. The earl had givenhim a watch and had left him a fortune, and Sir Raffle Buffle hadmade him a private secretary. In the old days, when Johnny's lovefor Lily Dale was first discussed by his mother and sister, they hadthought it impossible that Lily should ever bring herself to regardwith affection so humble a suitor;--for the Dales have ever heldtheir heads up in the world. But now there is no misgiving on thatscore with Mrs. Eames and her daughter. Their wonder is that LilyDale should be such a fool as to decline the love of such a man. SoJohnny was received with the respect due to a hero, as well as withthe affection belonging to a son--by which I mean it to be inferredthat Mrs. Eames had got a little bit of fish for dinner as well as aleg of mutton.

  "A man came down in the train with me who says he is going over toAllington," said Johnny. "I wonder who he can be. He is staying at'The Magpie.'"

  "A friend of Captain Dale's, probably," said Mary. Captain Dale wasthe squire's nephew and his heir.

  "But this man was not going to the squire's. He was going to theSmall House."

  "Is he going to stay there?"

  "I suppose not, as he asked about the inn." Then Johnny reflectedthat the man might probably be a friend of Crosbie's, and becamemelancholy in consequence. Crosbie might have thought it expedientto send an ambassador down to prepare the ground for him before heshould venture again upon the scene himself. If it were so, would itnot be well that he, John Eames, should get over to Lily as soon aspossible, and not wait till he should be staying with Lady Julia?

  It was at any rate incumbent upon him to call upon Lady Julia thenext morning, because of his commission. The Berlin wool might remainin his portmanteau till his portmanteau should go with him to thecottage; but he would take the spectacles at once, and he mustexplain to Lady Julia what the lawyers had told him about the income.So he hired a saddle-horse from "The Magpie" and started afterbreakfast on the morning after his arrival. In his unheroic days hewould have walked,--as he had done, scores of times, over the wholedistance from Guestwick to Allington. But now, in these grander days,he thought about his boots and the mud, and the formal appearance ofthe thing. "Ah dear," he said, to himself, as the nag walked slowlyout of the town, "it used to be better with me in the old days. Ihardly hoped that she would ever accept me, but at least she hadnever refused me. And then that brute had not as yet made his waydown to Allington!"

  He did not go very fast. After leaving the town he trotted on for amile or so. But when he got to the palings of Guestwick Manor he letthe animal walk again, and his mind ran back over the incidents ofhis life which were connected with the place. He remembered a certainlong ramble which he had taken in those woods after Lily had refusedhim. That had been subsequent to the Crosbie episode in his life, andJohnny had been led to hope by certain of his friends,--especiallyby Lord De Guest and his sister,--that he might then be successful.But he had been unsuccessful, and had passed the bitterest hour ofhis life wandering about in those woods. Since that he had beenunsuccessful again and again; but the bitterness of failure had notbeen so strong with him as on that first occasion. He would tryagain now, and if he failed, he would fail for the last time. As hewas thinking of all this, a gig overtook him on the road, and onlooking round he saw that the occupant of the gig was the man who hadtravelled with him on the previous day in the train. Major Grantlywas alone in the gig, and as he recognized John Eames he stopped hishorse. "Are you also going to Allington?" he asked. John Eames, withsomething of scorn in his voice, replied that he had no intention ofgoing to Allington on that day. He still thought that this man mightbe an emissary from Crosbie, and therefore resolved that but scantcourtesy was due to him. "I am on my way there now," said Grantly,"and am going to the house of your friend. May I tell her that Itravelled with you yesterday?"

  "Yes, sir," said Johnny. "You may tell her that you came down withJohn Eames."

  "And are you John Eames?" asked the major.

  "If you have no objection," said Johnny. "But I can hardly supposeyou have ever heard my name before?"

  "It is familiar to me, because I have the pleasure of knowing acousin of yours, Miss Grace Crawley."

  "My cousin is at present staying at Allington with Mrs. Dale," saidJohnny.

  "Just so," said the major, who now began to reflect that he had beenindiscreet in mentioning Grace Crawley's name. No doubt every oneconnected with the family, all the Crawleys, all the Dales, and allthe Eameses, would soon know the business which had brought him downto Allington but he need not have taken the trouble of beginning thestory against himself. John Eames, in truth, had never even heardMajor Grantly's name, and was quite unaware of the fortune whichawaited his cousin. Even after what he had now been told, he stillsuspected the stranger of being an emissary from his enemy; but themajor, not giving him credit for his ignorance, was annoyed withhimself for having told so much of his own history. "I will tell theladies that I had the pleasure of meeting you," he said; "that is, ifI am lucky enough to see them." And then he drove on.

  "I know I should hate that fellow if I were to meet him anywhereagain," said Johnny to himself as he rode on. "When I take anaversion to a fellow at first sight, I always stick to it. It'sinstinct, I suppose." And he was still giving himself credit forthe strength of his instincts when he reached Lady Julia's cottage.He rode at once into the stable-yard, with the privilege of anaccustomed friend of the house, and having given up his horse,entered the cottage by the back door. "Is my lady at home, Jemima?"he said to the maid.

  "Yes, Mr. John; she is in the drawing-room, and friends of yours arewith her." Then he was announced, and found himself in the presenceof Lady Julia, Lily Dale, and Grace Crawley.

  He was very warmly received. Lady Julia really loved him dearly, andwould have done anything in her power to bring about a match betweenhim and Lily. Grace was his cousin, and though she had not seen himoften, she was prepared to love him dearly as Lily's lover. AndLily,--Lily loved him dearly too,--if only she could have broughtherself to love him as he wished to be loved! To all of them JohnnyEames was something of a hero. At any rate in the eyes of all of themhe possessed those virtues which seemed to them to justify them inpetting him and making much of him.

  "I am so glad you've come,--that is, if you've brought myspectacles," said Lady Julia.

  "My pockets are crammed with spectacles," said Johnny.

  "And when are you coming to me?"

  "I was thinking of Tuesday."

  "No; don't come till Wednesday. But I mean Monday. No; Monday won'tdo. Come on Tuesday,--early, and drive me out. And now tell
us thenews."

  Johnny swore that there was no news. He made a brave attempt tobe gay and easy before Lily; but he failed, and he knew that hefailed,--and he knew that she knew that he failed. "Mamma will be soglad to see you," said Lily. "I suppose you haven't seen Bell yet?"

  "I only got to Guestwick yesterday afternoon," said he.

  "And it will be so nice our having Grace at the Small House;--won'tit? Uncle Christopher has quite taken a passion for Grace,--so that Iam hardly anybody now in the Allington world."

  "By-the-by," said Johnny, "I came down here with a friend of yours,Grace."

  "A friend of mine?" said Grace.

  "So he says, and he is at Allington at this moment. He passed me in agig going there."

  "And what was his name?" Lily asked.

  "I have not the remotest idea," said Johnny. "He is a man about myown age, very good-looking, and apparently very well able to takecare of himself. He is short-sighted, and holds a glass in one eyewhen he looks out of a carriage-window. That's all that I know abouthim."

  Grace Crawley's face had become suffused with blushes at the firstmention of the friend and the gig; but then Grace blushed veryeasily. Lily knew all about it at once;--at once divined who mustbe the friend in the gig, and was almost beside herself with joy.Lady Julia, who had heard no more of the major than had Johnny, wasstill clever enough to perceive that the friend must be a particularfriend,--for she had noticed Miss Crawley's blushes. And Graceherself had no doubt as to the man. The picture of her lover, withthe glass in his eye as he looked out of the window, had been tooperfect to admit of a doubt. In her distress she put out her hand andtook hold of Lily's dress.

  "And you say he is at Allington now?" said Lily.

  "I have no doubt he is at the Small House at this moment," saidJohnny.