The Last Chronicle of Barset

  CHAPTER XLV.

  LILY DALE GOES TO LONDON.

  One morning towards the end of March the squire rapped at the windowof the drawing-room of the Small House, in which Mrs. Dale and herdaughter were sitting. He had a letter in his hand, and both Lily andher mother knew that he had come down to speak about the contents ofthe letter. It was always a sign of good-humour on the squire's part,this rapping at the window. When it became necessary to him in hisgloomy moods to see his sister-in-law, he would write a note to her,and she would go across to him at the Great House. At other times,if, as Lily would say, he was just then neither sweet nor bitter, hewould go round to the front door and knock, and be admitted after themanner of ordinary people; but when he was minded to make himselfthoroughly pleasant he would come and rap at the drawing-room window,as he was doing now.

  "I'll let you in, uncle; wait a moment," said Lily, as she unboltedthe window which opened out upon the lawn. "It's dreadfully cold, socome in as fast as you can."

  "It's not cold at all," said the squire. "It's more like spring thanany morning we've had yet. I've been sitting without a fire."

  "You won't catch us without one for the next two months; will he,mamma? You have got a letter, uncle. Is it for us to see?"

  "Well,--yes; I've brought it down to show you. Mary, what do youthink is going to happen?"

  A terrible idea occurred to Mrs. Dale at that moment, but she wasmuch too wise to give it expression. Could it be possible that thesquire was going to make a fool of himself and get married? "I amvery bad at guessing," said Mrs. Dale. "You had better tell us."

  "Bernard is going to be married," said Lily.

  "How did you know?" said the squire.

  "I didn't know. I only guessed."

  "Then you've guessed right," said the squire, a little annoyed athaving his news thus taken out of his mouth.

  "I am so glad," said Mrs. Dale; "and I know from your manner that youlike the match."

  "Well,--yes. I don't know the young lady, but I think that upon thewhole I do like it. It's quite time, you know, that he got married."

  "He's not thirty yet," said Mrs. Dale.

  "He will be, in a month or two."

  "And who is it, uncle?"

  "Well;--as you're so good at guessing, I suppose you can guess that?"

  "It's not that Miss Partridge he used to talk about?"

  "No; it's not Miss Partridge,--I'm glad to say. I don't believe thatthe Partridges have a shilling among them."

  "Then I suppose it's an heiress?" said Mrs. Dale.

  "No; not an heiress; but she will have some money of her own. And shehas connexions in Barsetshire, which makes it pleasant."

  "Connexions in Barsetshire! Who can it be?" said Lily.

  "Her name is Emily Dunstable," said the squire, "and she is theniece of that Miss Dunstable who married Dr. Thorne and who lives atChaldicotes."

  "She was the woman who had millions upon millions," said Lily, "allgot by selling ointment."

  "Never mind how it was got," said the squire, angrily. "MissDunstable married most respectably, and has always made a mostexcellent use of her money."

  "And will Bernard's wife have all her fortune?" asked Lily.

  "She will have twenty thousand pounds the day she marries, and Isuppose that will be all."

  "And quite enough, too," said Mrs. Dale.

  "It seems that old Dr. Dunstable, as he was called, who, as Lilysays, sold the ointment, quarrelled with his son or with his son'swidow, and left nothing either to her or her child. The mother isdead, and the aunt, Dr. Thorne's wife, has always provided for thechild. That's how it is, and Bernard is going to marry her. They areto be married at Chaldicotes in May."

  "I am delighted to hear it," said Mrs. Dale.

  "I've known Dr. Thorne for the last forty years;" and the squire nowspoke in a low melancholy tone. "I've written to him to say that theyoung people shall have the old place up there to themselves if theylike it."

  "What! and turn you out?" said Mrs. Dale.

  "That would not matter," said the squire.

  "You'd have to come and live with us," said Lily, taking him by thehand.

  "It doesn't matter much now where I live," said the squire.

  "Bernard will never consent to that," said Mrs. Dale.

  "I wonder whether she'll ask me to be a bridesmaid?" said Lily. "Theysay that Chaldicotes is such a pretty place, and I should see allthe Barsetshire people that I've been hearing about from Grace. PoorGrace! I know that the Grantlys and the Thornes are very intimate.Fancy Bernard having twenty thousand pounds from the making ofointment!"

  "What does it matter to you where it comes from?" said the squire,half in anger.

  "Not in the least; only it sounds so odd. I do hope she's a nicegirl."

  Then the squire produced a photograph of Emily Dunstable which hisnephew had sent to him, and they all pronounced her to be verypretty, to be very much like a lady, and to be very good-humoured.The squire was evidently pleased with the match, and therefore theladies were pleased also. Bernard Dale was the heir to the estate,and his marriage was of course a matter of moment; and as on suchproperties as that of Allington money is always wanted, the squiremay be forgiven for the great importance which he attached to theyoung lady's fortune. "Bernard could hardly have married prudentlywithout any money," he said,--"unless he had chosen to wait till Iam gone."

  They pronounced her to be very much like a Lady.]

  "And then he would have been too old to marry at all," said Lily.

  But the squire's budget of news had not yet been emptied. He toldthem soon afterwards that he himself had been summoned up to London.Bernard had written to him, begging him to come and see the younglady; and the family lawyer had written also, saying that hispresence in town would be very desirable. "It is very troublesome,of course; but I shall go," said the squire. "It will do you all thegood in the world," said Mrs. Dale; "and of course you ought to knowher personally before the marriage." And then the squire made a cleanbreast of it and declared his full purpose. "I was thinking that,perhaps, Lily would not object to go up to London with me."

  "Oh, uncle Christopher, I should so like it," said Lily.

  "If your mamma does not object."

  "Mamma never objects to anything. I should like to see her objectingto that!" And Lily shook her head at her mother.

  "Bernard says that Miss Dunstable particularly wants to see you."

  "Does she, indeed? And I particularly want to see Miss Dunstable.How nice! Mamma, I don't think I've ever been in London since I woreshort frocks. Do you remember taking us to the pantomime? Only thinkhow many years ago that is. I'm quite sure it's time that Bernardshould get married. Uncle, I hope you're prepared to take me to theplay."

  "We must see about that!"

  "And the opera, and Madame Tussaud, and the Horticultural Gardens,and the new conjuror who makes a woman lie upon nothing. The ideaof my going to London! And then I suppose I shall be one of thebridesmaids. I declare a new vista of life is opening out to me!Mamma, you mustn't be dull while I'm away. It won't be very long,I suppose, uncle?"

  "About a month, probably," said the squire.

  "Oh, mamma; what will you do?"

  "Never mind me, Lily."

  "You must get Bell and the children to come. But I cannot imagineliving away from home a month. I was never away from home a month inmy life."

  And Lily did go up to town with her uncle, two days only having beenallowed to her for her preparations. There was very much for her tothink of in such a journey. It was not only that she would see EmilyDunstable who was to be her cousin's wife, and that she would go tothe play and visit the new conjuror's entertainment, but that shewould be in the same city both with Adolphus Crosbie and with JohnEames. Not having personal experience of the wideness of London, andof the wilderness which it is;--of the distance which is set therebetween persons who are not purposely brought together--it seemedto her fancy as though for this month of her absence fr
om home shewould be brought into close contiguity with both her lovers. Shehad hitherto felt herself to be at any rate safe in her fortress atAllington. When Crosbie had written to her mother, making a renewedoffer which had been rejected, Lily had felt that she certainly neednot see him unless it pleased her to do so. He could hardly forcehimself upon her at Allington. And as to John Eames, though he would,of course, be welcome at Allington as often as he pleased to showhimself, still there was a security in the place. She was so much athome there that she could always be mistress of the occasion. Sheknew that she could talk to him at Allington as though from groundhigher than that on which he stood himself; but she felt that thiswould hardly be the case if she should chance to meet him in London.Crosbie probably would not come in her way. Crosbie she thought,--andshe blushed for the man she loved, as the idea came across hermind,--would be afraid of meeting her uncle. But John Eames wouldcertainly find her; and she was led by the experience of latter daysto imagine that John would never cross her path without renewing hisattempts.

  But she said no word of all this, even to her mother. She wascontented to confine her outspoken expectations to Emily Dunstable,and the play, and the conjuror. "The chances are ten to one againstmy liking her, mamma," she said.

  "I don't see that, my dear."

  "I feel to be too old to think that I shall ever like any more newpeople. Three years ago I should have been quite sure that I shouldlove a new cousin. It would have been like having a new dress. ButI've come to think that an old dress is the most comfortable, and anold cousin certainly the best."

  The squire had had taken for them a gloomy lodging in SackvilleStreet. Lodgings in London are always gloomy. Gloomy colours wearbetter than bright ones for curtains and carpets, and the keepersof lodgings in London seem to think that a certain dinginess ofappearance is respectable. I never saw a London lodging in whichany attempt at cheerfulness had been made, and I do not think thatany such attempt, if made, would pay. The lodging-seeker would befrightened and dismayed, and would unconsciously be led to fancythat something was wrong. Ideas of burglars and improper personswould present themselves. This is so certainly the case that I doubtwhether any well-conditioned lodging-house matron could be induced toshow rooms that were prettily draped or pleasantly coloured. The bigdrawing-room and two large bedrooms which the squire took, were allthat was proper, and were as brown, and as gloomy, and as ill-suitedfor the comforts of ordinary life as though they had been preparedfor two prisoners. But Lily was not so ignorant as to expect cheerfullodgings in London, and was satisfied. "And what are we to do now?"said Lily, as soon as they found themselves settled. It was stillMarch, and whatever may have been the nature of the weather atAllington, it was very cold in London. They reached SackvilleStreet about five in the evening, and an hour was taken up inunpacking their trunks and making themselves as comfortable as theircircumstances allowed. "And now what are we to do?" said Lily.

  "I told them to have dinner for us at half-past six."

  "And what after that? Won't Bernard come to us to-night? I expectedhim to be standing on the door-steps waiting for us with his bride inhis hand."

  "I don't suppose Bernard will be here to-night," said the squire. "Hedid not say that he would, and as for Miss Dunstable, I promised totake you to her aunt's house to-morrow."

  "But I wanted to see her to-night. Well;--of course bridesmaidsmust wait upon brides. And ladies with twenty thousand pounds can'tbe expected to run about like common people. As for Bernard,--butBernard never was in a hurry." Then they dined, and when the squirehad very nearly fallen asleep over a bottle of port wine which hadbeen sent in for him from some neighbouring public-house, Lily beganto feel that it was very dull. And she looked round the room, andshe thought that it was very ugly. And she calculated that thirtyevenings so spent would seem to be very long. And she reflected thatthe hours were probably going much more quickly with Emily Dunstable,who, no doubt, at this moment had Bernard Dale by her side. And thenshe told herself that the hours were not tedious with her at home,while sitting with her mother, with all her daily occupations withinher reach. But in so telling herself she took herself to task,inquiring of herself whether such an assurance was altogether true.Were not the hours sometimes tedious even at home? And in this wayher mind wandered off to thoughts upon life in general, and sherepeated to herself over and over again the two words which she hadtold John Eames that she would write in her journal. The reader willremember those two words;--Old Maid. And she had written them in herbook, making each letter a capital, and round them she had drawn ascroll, ornamented after her own fashion, and she had added the datein quaintly formed figures,--for in such matters Lily had some littleskill and a dash of fun to direct it; and she had inscribed below itan Italian motto,--"Who goes softly, goes safely;" and above her workof art she had put a heading--"As arranged by Fate for L. D." Now shethought of all this, and reflected whether Emily Dunstable was intruth very happy. Presently the tears came into her eyes, and she gotup and went to the window, as though she were afraid that her unclemight wake and see them. And as she looked out on the blank street,she muttered a word or two--"Dear mother! Dearest mother!" Then thedoor was opened, and her cousin Bernard announced himself. She hadnot heard his knock at the door as she had been thinking of the twowords in her book.

  "What; Bernard!--ah, yes, of course," said the squire, rubbing hiseyes as he strove to wake himself. "I wasn't sure you would come, butI'm delighted to see you. I wish you joy with all my heart,--with allmy heart."

  "Of course, I should come," said Bernard. "Dear Lily, this is so goodof you. Emily is so delighted." Then Lily spoke her congratulationswarmly, and there was no trace of a tear in her eyes, and she wasthoroughly happy as she sat by her cousin's side and listened tohis raptures about Emily Dunstable. "And you will be so fond of heraunt," he said.

  "But is she not awfully rich?" said Lily.

  "Frightfully rich," said Bernard; "but really you would hardly findit out if nobody told you. Of course she lives in a big house, andhas a heap of servants; but she can't help that."

  "I hate a heap of servants," said Lily.

  Then there came another knock at the door, and who should enter theroom but John Eames. Lily for a moment was taken aback, but it wasonly for a moment. She had been thinking so much of him that hispresence disturbed her for an instant. "He probably will not knowthat I am here," she had said to herself; but she had not yet beenthree hours in London, and he was already with her! At first hehardly spoke to her, addressing himself to the squire. "Lady Juliatold me you were to be here, and as I start for the Continent earlyto-morrow morning, I thought you would let me come and see you beforeI went."

  "I'm always glad to see you, John," said the squire,--"very glad. Andso you're going abroad, are you?"

  Then Johnny congratulated his old acquaintance, Bernard Dale, as tohis coming marriage, and explained to them how Lady Julia in oneof her letters had told him all about it, and had even given himthe number in Sackville Street. "I suppose she learned it from you,Lily," said the squire. "Yes, uncle, she did." And then there camequestions as to John's projected journey to the Continent, andhe explained that he was going on law-business, on behalf of Mr.Crawley, to catch the dean and Mrs. Arabin, if it might be possible."You see, sir, Mr. Toogood, who is Mr. Crawley's cousin, and also hislawyer, is my cousin, too; and that's why I'm going." And still therehad been hardly a word spoken between him and Lily.

  "But you're not a lawyer, John; are you?" said the squire.

  "No. I'm not a lawyer myself."

  "Nor a lawyer's clerk?"

  "Certainly not a lawyer's clerk," said Johnny, laughing.

  "Then why should you go?" asked Bernard Dale.

  Then Johnny had to explain; and in doing so he became very eloquentas to the hardships of Mr. Crawley's case. "You see, sir, nobody canpossibly believe that such a man as that stole twenty pounds."

  "I do not for one," said Lily.

  "God forbid that I should say he did," said t
he squire.

  "I'm quite sure he didn't," said Johnny, warming to his subject. "Itcouldn't be that such a man as that should become a thief all atonce. It's not human nature, sir; is it?"

  "It is very hard to know what is human nature," said the squire.

  "It's the general opinion down in Barsetshire that he did steal it,"said Bernard. "Dr. Thorne was one of the magistrates who committedhim, and I know he thinks so."

  "I don't blame the magistrates in the least," said Johnny.

  "That's kind of you," said the squire.

  "Of course you'll laugh at me, sir; but you'll see that we shall comeout right. There's some mystery in it of which we haven't got at thebottom as yet; and if there is anybody that can help us it's thedean."

  "If the dean knows anything, why has he not written and told what heknows?" said the squire.

  "That's what I can't say. The dean has not had an opportunity ofwriting since he heard,--even if he has yet heard,--that Mr. Crawleyis to be tried. And then he and Mrs. Arabin are not together. It'sa long story, and I will not trouble you with it all; but at anyrate I'm going off to-morrow. Lily, can I do anything for you inFlorence?"

  "In Florence?" said Lily; "and are you really going to Florence? HowI envy you."

  "And who pays your expenses?" said the squire.

  "Well;--as to my expenses, they are to be paid by a person who won'traise any unpleasant questions about the amount."

  "I don't know what you mean," said the squire.

  "He means himself," said Lily.

  "Is he going to do it out of his own pocket?"

  "He is," said Lily, looking at her lover.

  "I'm going to have a trip for my own fun," said Johnny, "and I shallpick up evidence on the road, as I'm going;--that's all."

  Then Lily began to take an active part in the conversation, and agreat deal was said about Mr. Crawley, and about Grace, and Lilydeclared that she would be very anxious to hear any news which JohnEames might be able to send. "You know, John, how fond we are of yourcousin Grace, at Allington? Are we not, uncle?"

  "Yes, indeed," said the squire. "I thought her a very nice girl."

  "If you should be able to learn anything that may be of use, John,how happy you will be."

  "Yes, I shall," said Johnny.

  "And I think it so good of you to go, John. But it is just like you.You were always generous." Soon after that he got up and went. Itwas very clear to him that he would have no moment in which to saya word alone to Lily; and if he could find such a moment, what goodwould such a word do him? It was as yet but a few weeks since she hadpositively refused him. And he too remembered very well those twowords which she had told him that she would write in her book. Ashe had been coming to the house he had told himself that his comingwould be,--could be of no use. And yet he was disappointed with theresult of his visit, although she had spoken to him so sweetly.

  "I suppose you'll be gone when I come back?" he said.

  "We shall be here a month," said the squire.

  "I shall be back long before that, I hope," said Johnny. "Good-by,sir. Good-by, Dale. Good-by, Lily." And he put out his hand to her.

  "Good-by, John." And then she added, almost in a whisper, "I thinkyou are very, very right to go." How could he fail after that to hopeas he walked home that she might still relent. And she also thoughtmuch of him, but her thoughts of him made her cling more firmly thanever to the two words. She could not bring herself to marry him; but,at least, she would not break his heart by becoming the wife of anyone else. Soon after this Bernard Dale went also. I am not sure thathe had been well pleased at seeing John Eames become suddenly thehero of the hour. When a young man is going to perform so importantan act as that of marriage, he is apt to think that he ought to bethe hero of the hour himself--at any rate among his own family.

  Early on the next morning Lily was taken by her uncle to call uponMrs. Thorne, and to see Emily Dunstable. Bernard was to meet themthere, but it had been arranged that they should reach the housefirst. "There is nothing so absurd as these introductions," Bernardhad said. "You go and look at her, and when you've had time to lookat her, then I'll come!" So the squire and Lily went off to look atEmily Dunstable.

  "You don't mean to say that she lives in that house?" said Lily, whenthe cab was stopped before an enormous mansion in one of the mostfashionable of the London squares.

  "I believe she does," said the squire.

  "I never shall be able to speak to anybody living in such a house asthat," said Lily. "A duke couldn't have anything grander."

  "Mrs. Thorne is richer than half the dukes," said the squire. Thenthe door was opened by a porter, and Lily found herself within thehall. Everything was very great, and very magnificent, and, as shethought, very uncomfortable. Presently she heard a loud jovial voiceon the stairs. "Mr. Dale, I'm delighted to see you. And this is yourniece Lily. Come up, my dear. There is a young woman upstairs, dyingto embrace you. Never mind the umbrella. Put it down anywhere. I wantto have a look at you, because Bernard swears that you're so pretty."This was Mrs. Thorne, once Miss Dunstable, the richest woman inEngland, and the aunt of Bernard's bride. The reader may perhapsremember the advice which she once gave to Major Grantly, and herenthusiasm on that occasion. "There she is, Mr. Dale; what do youthink of her?" said Mrs. Thorne, as she opened the door of a smallsitting-room wedged in between two large saloons, in which EmilyDunstable was sitting.

  "Aunt Martha, how can you be so ridiculous?" said the young lady.

  "I suppose it is ridiculous to ask the question to which one reallywants to have an answer," said Mrs. Thorne. "But Mr. Dale has, intruth, come to inspect you, and to form an opinion and, in honesttruth, I shall be very anxious to know what he thinks,--though, ofcourse, he won't tell me."

  The old man took the girl in his arms, and kissed her on both cheeks."I have no doubt you'll find out what I think," he said, "though Ishould never tell you."

  "I generally do find out what people think," she said. "And so you'reLily Dale?"

  "Yes, I'm Lily Dale."

  "I have so often heard of you, particularly of late; for you mustknow that a certain Major Grantly is a friend of mine. We must takecare that that affair comes off all right, must we not?"

  "I hope it will." Then Lily turned to Emily Dunstable, and, takingher hand, went up and sat beside her, while Mrs. Thorne and thesquire talked of the coming marriage. "How long have you beenengaged?" said Lily.

  "Really engaged, about three weeks. I think it is not more than threeweeks ago."

  "How very discreet Bernard has been. He never told us a word about itwhile it was going on."

  "Men never do tell, I suppose," said Emily Dunstable.

  "Of course you love him very dearly?" said Lily, not knowing whatelse to say.

  "Of course I do."

  "So do we. You know he's almost a brother to us; that is, to me andmy sister. We never had a brother of our own." And so the morning waspassed till Lily was told by her uncle to come away, and was toldalso by Mrs. Thorne that she was to dine with them in the square onthat day. "You must not be surprised that my husband is not here,"she said. "He is a very odd sort of man, and he never comes to Londonif he can help it."