The Last Chronicle of Barset [230]
married prudently without any money,' he said--'unless he had chosen to wait till I am gone.'
'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 told them soon afterwards that he himself had been summoned up to London. Bernard had written to him, begging him to come and see the young lady; and the family lawyer had written also, saying that his presence in town would be very desirable. 'It is very troublesome, of course; but I shall go,' said the squire. 'It will do you all the good in the world,' said Mrs Dale; 'and of course you ought to know her personally before the marriage.' And then the squire made a clean breast 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 objecting to 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 wore short frocks. Do you remember taking us to the pantomime? Only think how many years ago that is. I'm quite sure it's time that Bernard should get married. Uncle, I hope you're prepared to take me to the play.'
'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 idea of my going to London! And then I suppose I shall be one of the bridesmaids. 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 imagine living away from home a month. I was never away from home a month in my life.'
And Lily did go up to town with her uncle, two days only after having been allowed to her for her preparations. There was very much for to think of in such a journey. It was not only that she would see Emily Dunstable who was to be her cousin's wife, and that she would go to the play and visit the new conjurer's entertainment, but that she would be in the same city both with Adolphus Crosbie and with John Eames. Not having personal experience of the wideness of London, and of the wilderness which it is--of the distance which is set there between persons who are not purposely brought together--it seemed to her fancy as though for this month of her absence from home she would be brought into close contiguity with both her lovers. She had hitherto felt herself to be at any rate safe in her fortress at Allington. When Crosbie had written to her mother, making a renewed offer which had been rejected, Lily had felt that she certainly need not see him unless it pleased her to do so. He could hardly force himself upon her at Allington. And as to John Eames, though he would, of course, be welcome at Allington as often as he pleased to show himself, still there was a security in the place. She was so much at home there that she could always be the mistress of the occasion. She knew that she could talk to him at Allington as though from ground higher than that on which he stood himself; but she felt that this would hardly be the case if she should chance to meet him in London. Crosbie probably would not come in her way. Crosbie, she thought--and she blushed for the man she loved, as the idea came across her mind--would be afraid of meeting her uncle. But John Eames would certainly find her; and she was led by the experience of latter days to image that John would never cross her path without renewing his attempts.
But she said no word of this, even to her mother. She was contented to confine her outspoken expectations to Emily Dunstable, and the play, and the conjurer.
'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 told them soon afterwards that he himself had been summoned up to London. Bernard had written to him, begging him to come and see the young lady; and the family lawyer had written also, saying that his presence in town would be very desirable. 'It is very troublesome, of course; but I shall go,' said the squire. 'It will do you all the good in the world,' said Mrs Dale; 'and of course you ought to know her personally before the marriage.' And then the squire made a clean breast 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 objecting to 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 wore short frocks. Do you remember taking us to the pantomime? Only think how many years ago that is. I'm quite sure it's time that Bernard should get married. Uncle, I hope you're prepared to take me to the play.'
'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 idea of my going to London! And then I suppose I shall be one of the bridesmaids. 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 imagine living away from home a month. I was never away from home a month in my life.'
And Lily did go up to town with her uncle, two days only after having been allowed to her for her preparations. There was very much for to think of in such a journey. It was not only that she would see Emily Dunstable who was to be her cousin's wife, and that she would go to the play and visit the new conjurer's entertainment, but that she would be in the same city both with Adolphus Crosbie and with John Eames. Not having personal experience of the wideness of London, and of the wilderness which it is--of the distance which is set there between persons who are not purposely brought together--it seemed to her fancy as though for this month of her absence from home she would be brought into close contiguity with both her lovers. She had hitherto felt herself to be at any rate safe in her fortress at Allington. When Crosbie had written to her mother, making a renewed offer which had been rejected, Lily had felt that she certainly need not see him unless it pleased her to do so. He could hardly force himself upon her at Allington. And as to John Eames, though he would, of course, be welcome at Allington as often as he pleased to show himself, still there was a security in the place. She was so much at home there that she could always be the mistress of the occasion. She knew that she could talk to him at Allington as though from ground higher than that on which he stood himself; but she felt that this would hardly be the case if she should chance to meet him in London. Crosbie probably would not come in her way. Crosbie, she thought--and she blushed for the man she loved, as the idea came across her mind--would be afraid of meeting her uncle. But John Eames would certainly find her; and she was led by the experience of latter days to image that John would never cross her path without renewing his attempts.
But she said no word of this, even to her mother. She was contented to confine her outspoken expectations to Emily Dunstable, and the play, and the conjurer.