The Last Chronicle of Barset [234]
you. And this is your niece Lily. Come up, my dear. There is a young woman upstairs dying to embrace you. Never mind the umbrella. Put it down anywhere. I want to have a look at you, because Bernard swears that you're so pretty.' This was Mrs Thorne, once Miss Dunstable, the richest woman in England, and the aunt of Bernard's bride. The reader may perhaps remember the advice which she once gave to Major Grantly, and her enthusiasm on that occasion. 'There she is, Mr Dale; what do you think of her?' said Mrs Thorne as she opened the door of a small sitting-room wedged in between two large saloons, in which Emily Dunstable 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 really wants to have an answer,' said Mrs Thorne. 'But Mr Dale has, in truth, come to inspect you, and to form an opinion; and, in honest truth, I shall be very anxious to know what he thinks--though, of course, 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 will find out what I think,' he said, 'though I should never tell you.'
'I generally do find out what people think,' she said. 'And so you're Lily Dale?'
'Yes, I'm Lily Dale.'
'I have so often heard of you, particularly of late; for you must know that a certain Major Grantly is a friend of mine. We must take care that that affair comes off all right, must we not?'
'I hope it will.' Then Lily turned to Emily Dunstable, and, taking her hand, went up and sat beside her, while Mrs Thorne and the squire talked of the coming marriage. 'How long have you been engaged?' said Lily.
'Really engaged about three weeks. I think it is not more than three weeks ago.'
'How very discreet Bernard has been. He never said a word about it while it was going on.'
'Men never do tell, I suppose,' said Emily Dunstable.
'Of course you love him dearly?' said Lily, not knowing what else to say.
'Of course I do.'
'And so do we. You know he's almost a brother to us; that is, to me and my sister. We never had a brother of our own.' And so the morning was passed till Lily was told by her uncle to come away, and was told also by Mrs Thorne that she was to dine with them in the square on that day. 'You must not be surprised that my husband is not here,' she said. 'He's a very odd sort of man, and he never comes to London if he can help it.'
CHAPTER XLVI
THE BAYSWATER ROMANCE
Eames had by no means done his work for that evening when he left Mr Dale and Lily at their lodgings. He had other business in hand to which he had promised to give attention, and another person to see who would welcome his coming quite as warmly, though by no means as pleasantly, as Lily Dale. It was then just nine o'clock, and as he had told Miss Demolines--Madalina we may as well call her now--that he would be in Porchester Terrace by nine at the latest, it was incumbent on him to make haste. He got into a cab, and bid the cabman drive hard, and lighting a cigar, began to inquire of himself over and over again whether it was well for him to hurry away from the presence of Lily Dale to that of Madalina Demolines. He felt that he was half-ashamed of what he was doing. Though he declared to himself over and over again that he never had said a word, and never intended to say a word, to Madalina, which all the world might not hear, yet he knew that he was doing amiss. He was doing amiss, and half repented it, and he was half proud of it. He was most anxious to be able to give himself credit for his constancy to Lily Dale; to be able to feel that he was steadfast in his passion; and yet he liked the idea of amusing himself with his Bayswater romance, as he would call it, and was not without something of conceit as he thought of the progress he had made in it. 'Love is one thing and amusement is another,' he said to himself as he puffed the cigar smoke out of his mouth; and in his heart he was proud of his own capacity for enjoyment. He thought it a fine thing,
'Aunt Martha, how can you be so ridiculous?' said the young lady.
'I suppose it is ridiculous to ask the question to which one really wants to have an answer,' said Mrs Thorne. 'But Mr Dale has, in truth, come to inspect you, and to form an opinion; and, in honest truth, I shall be very anxious to know what he thinks--though, of course, 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 will find out what I think,' he said, 'though I should never tell you.'
'I generally do find out what people think,' she said. 'And so you're Lily Dale?'
'Yes, I'm Lily Dale.'
'I have so often heard of you, particularly of late; for you must know that a certain Major Grantly is a friend of mine. We must take care that that affair comes off all right, must we not?'
'I hope it will.' Then Lily turned to Emily Dunstable, and, taking her hand, went up and sat beside her, while Mrs Thorne and the squire talked of the coming marriage. 'How long have you been engaged?' said Lily.
'Really engaged about three weeks. I think it is not more than three weeks ago.'
'How very discreet Bernard has been. He never said a word about it while it was going on.'
'Men never do tell, I suppose,' said Emily Dunstable.
'Of course you love him dearly?' said Lily, not knowing what else to say.
'Of course I do.'
'And so do we. You know he's almost a brother to us; that is, to me and my sister. We never had a brother of our own.' And so the morning was passed till Lily was told by her uncle to come away, and was told also by Mrs Thorne that she was to dine with them in the square on that day. 'You must not be surprised that my husband is not here,' she said. 'He's a very odd sort of man, and he never comes to London if he can help it.'
CHAPTER XLVI
THE BAYSWATER ROMANCE
Eames had by no means done his work for that evening when he left Mr Dale and Lily at their lodgings. He had other business in hand to which he had promised to give attention, and another person to see who would welcome his coming quite as warmly, though by no means as pleasantly, as Lily Dale. It was then just nine o'clock, and as he had told Miss Demolines--Madalina we may as well call her now--that he would be in Porchester Terrace by nine at the latest, it was incumbent on him to make haste. He got into a cab, and bid the cabman drive hard, and lighting a cigar, began to inquire of himself over and over again whether it was well for him to hurry away from the presence of Lily Dale to that of Madalina Demolines. He felt that he was half-ashamed of what he was doing. Though he declared to himself over and over again that he never had said a word, and never intended to say a word, to Madalina, which all the world might not hear, yet he knew that he was doing amiss. He was doing amiss, and half repented it, and he was half proud of it. He was most anxious to be able to give himself credit for his constancy to Lily Dale; to be able to feel that he was steadfast in his passion; and yet he liked the idea of amusing himself with his Bayswater romance, as he would call it, and was not without something of conceit as he thought of the progress he had made in it. 'Love is one thing and amusement is another,' he said to himself as he puffed the cigar smoke out of his mouth; and in his heart he was proud of his own capacity for enjoyment. He thought it a fine thing,