The Last Chronicle of Barset [278]
will even ask, who have nothing to do with her at all!' 'But I have nothing to do with her--in that way I mean,' said Lily. 'Oh, yes, you have,' said Emily. 'You and Bernard are as good as brother and sister, and Bernard are as good as man and wife, and my aunt and I are as good as mother and daughter. So you see, in a sort of way you are a child of the house.' So Lily accepted the habit; but made a stand at the hat, and paid for that out of her own pocket. When the squire had seen Lily on horseback he asked her questions about it. 'It was a hired horse, I suppose?' he said. 'I think it came direct from heaven,' said Lily. 'What do you mean, Lily?' said the squire angrily. 'I mean that when people are so rich and good-natured as Mrs Thorne it is not good inquiring where things come from. All that I know is that the horses come out of Potts' livery-stable. They talk of Potts as if he were a good-natured man who provides horses for the world without troubling anybody.' Then the squire spoke to Bernard about it, saying that he would insist on defraying his niece's expenses. But Bernard swore that he should give his uncle no assistance. 'I would not speak to her about such a thing for all the world,' said Bernard. 'Then I shall,' said the squire.
In those days Lily thought much of Johnny Eames--gave to him perhaps more of that thought which leads to love than she had ever given him before. She still heard the Crawley question discussed every day. Mrs Thorne, as we all know, was at this time a Barsetshire personage, and was of course interested in Barsetshire subjects; and she was specially anxious in the matter, having strong hopes with reference to the marriage of Major Grantly and Grace, and strong hopes also that Grace's father might escape the fangs of justice. The Crawley case was constantly in Lily's ears, and as constantly she heard high praise awarded to Johnny for his kindness in going after the Arabins. 'He must be a fine young fellow,' said Mrs Thorne, 'and we'll have him down at Chaldicotes some day. Old Lord De Guest found him out and made a friend of him, and old Lord De Guest was no fool.' Lilly was not altogether free from a suspicion that Mrs Thorne knew the story of Johnny's love and was trying to serve Johnny--as other people had tried to do, very ineffectually. When this suspicion came upon her she would shut her heart against her lover's praises, and swear that she would stand by those two letters which she had written in her book at home. But the suspicion would not always be there, and there did come upon her a conviction that her lover was more esteemed among men and women than she had been accustomed to believe. Her cousin, Bernard Dale, who certainly was regarded in the world as somebody, spoke of him as an equal; where in former days Bernard had always regarded Johnny Eames as standing low in the world's regards. Then Lily, when alone, would remember a certain comparison which she once made between Adolphus Crosbie and John Eames, when neither of the men had as yet pleaded their cause to her, and which had been very much in favour of the former. She had then declared that Johnny was a 'mere clerk'. She had a higher opinion of him now--a much higher opinion, even though he could never be more to her than a friend.
In these days Lily's new ally, Emily Dunstable, seemed to Lily to be so happy! There was in Emily a complete realisation of that idea of ante-nuptial blessedness, of which Lily had often thought so much. Whatever Emily did she did for Bernard; and, to give Captain Dale his due, he received all the sweets which were showered upon him with becoming signs of gratitude. I suppose it is always the case at such times that the girl has the best of it, and on this occasion Emily Dunstable certainly made the most of her happiness. 'I do envy you,' Lily said one day. The acknowledgement seemed to have been extorted from her involuntarily. She did not laugh as she spoke, or follow up what she had said with other words intended to take away the joke of what she had uttered--had it been a joke; but
In those days Lily thought much of Johnny Eames--gave to him perhaps more of that thought which leads to love than she had ever given him before. She still heard the Crawley question discussed every day. Mrs Thorne, as we all know, was at this time a Barsetshire personage, and was of course interested in Barsetshire subjects; and she was specially anxious in the matter, having strong hopes with reference to the marriage of Major Grantly and Grace, and strong hopes also that Grace's father might escape the fangs of justice. The Crawley case was constantly in Lily's ears, and as constantly she heard high praise awarded to Johnny for his kindness in going after the Arabins. 'He must be a fine young fellow,' said Mrs Thorne, 'and we'll have him down at Chaldicotes some day. Old Lord De Guest found him out and made a friend of him, and old Lord De Guest was no fool.' Lilly was not altogether free from a suspicion that Mrs Thorne knew the story of Johnny's love and was trying to serve Johnny--as other people had tried to do, very ineffectually. When this suspicion came upon her she would shut her heart against her lover's praises, and swear that she would stand by those two letters which she had written in her book at home. But the suspicion would not always be there, and there did come upon her a conviction that her lover was more esteemed among men and women than she had been accustomed to believe. Her cousin, Bernard Dale, who certainly was regarded in the world as somebody, spoke of him as an equal; where in former days Bernard had always regarded Johnny Eames as standing low in the world's regards. Then Lily, when alone, would remember a certain comparison which she once made between Adolphus Crosbie and John Eames, when neither of the men had as yet pleaded their cause to her, and which had been very much in favour of the former. She had then declared that Johnny was a 'mere clerk'. She had a higher opinion of him now--a much higher opinion, even though he could never be more to her than a friend.
In these days Lily's new ally, Emily Dunstable, seemed to Lily to be so happy! There was in Emily a complete realisation of that idea of ante-nuptial blessedness, of which Lily had often thought so much. Whatever Emily did she did for Bernard; and, to give Captain Dale his due, he received all the sweets which were showered upon him with becoming signs of gratitude. I suppose it is always the case at such times that the girl has the best of it, and on this occasion Emily Dunstable certainly made the most of her happiness. 'I do envy you,' Lily said one day. The acknowledgement seemed to have been extorted from her involuntarily. She did not laugh as she spoke, or follow up what she had said with other words intended to take away the joke of what she had uttered--had it been a joke; but