The Last Chronicle of Barset [413]
hand, John, I knew he had handled the cheque himself. I don't mean to say that I'm sharper than another man, and I don't think so; but I do mean to say that when you are in any difficulty of that sort, you ought to go to a lawyer. It's his business, and a man does what is his business with patience and perseverance. It's a pity, though, that the scoundrel should get off.' Then Eames gave his uncle an account of his Italian trip, to and fro, and was congratulated also upon his success. John's great triumph lay in the fact that he had been only two nights in bed, and that he would not have so far condescended on those occasions but for the feminine weakness of his fellow-traveller. 'We shan't forget it all in a hurry--shall we, John?' said Mr Toogood, in a pleasant voice, as they parted at the door of the luncheon-house in Holborn. Toogood was returning to his office, and John Eames was to prepare himself for his last attempt.
He went back to his lodgings, intending at first to change his dress to make himself smarter for the work before him--but after standing for a moment or two leaning on the chest of drawers in his bedroom, he gave up this idea. 'After all that's come and gone,' he said to himself, 'if I cannot win her as I am now, I cannot win her at all.' And then he swore to himself a solemn oath, resolving that he would repeat the purport of it to Lily herself--that this should be the last attempt. 'What's the use of it? Everybody ridicules me. And I am ridiculous. I am an ass. It's all very well wanting to be the prime minister; but if you can't be prime minister, you must do without being prime minister.' Then he attempted to sing the old song--'Shall I, sighing in despair, die because a woman's fair? If she be not fair to me, what care I how fair she be?' But he did care, and he told himself that the song did him no good. As it was not time for him as yet to go to Lily, he threw himself on the sofa, and strove to read a book. Then all the weary nights of his journey prevailed over him, and he fell asleep.
When he woke it wanted quarter to six. He sprang up, and rushing out, jumped into a cab. 'Berkeley Square--as hard as you can go,' he said. 'Number --.' He thought of Rosalind, and her counsels to lovers as to the keeping of time, and reflected that in such an emergency as this, he might really have ruined himself by that unfortunate slumber. When he got to Mrs Thorne's door he knocked hurriedly, and bustled up to the drawing-room as though everything depended on his saving a minute. 'I'm afraid I'm ever so much behind my time,' he said.
'It does not matter in the least,' said Lily. 'As Mrs Arabin said that perhaps you might call, I would not be out of the way. I suppose that Sir Raffle was keeping you and that you wouldn't come.'
'Sir Raffle was not keeping me. I fell asleep. That's the truth of it.'
'I am so sorry that you should have been disturbed!'
'Do not laugh at me, Lily--today. I had been travelling a good deal, and I suppose I was tired.'
'I won't laugh at you,' she said, and her eyes became full of tears--she did not know why. But there they were, and she was ashamed to put up her handkerchief, and she could not bring herself to turn away her face, and she had no resource but that he should see them.
'Lily!' he said.
'What a paladin you have been, John, rushing all about Europe on your friend's behalf!'
'Don't talk about that.'
'And such a successful paladin too! Why am I not to talk about it? I am going home tomorrow, and I mean to talk about nothing else for a week. I am so very, very, glad that you have saved your cousin.' Then she did put up her handkerchief, making believe that her tears had been due to Mr Crawley. But John Eames knew better than that.
'Lily,' he said, 'I've come for the last time. It sounds as though I meant to threaten you; but you won't take it in that way. I think you will know what I mean. I have come for the last time--to ask you to be my wife.' She got up to greet him when he entered, and they were both still standing. She did not
He went back to his lodgings, intending at first to change his dress to make himself smarter for the work before him--but after standing for a moment or two leaning on the chest of drawers in his bedroom, he gave up this idea. 'After all that's come and gone,' he said to himself, 'if I cannot win her as I am now, I cannot win her at all.' And then he swore to himself a solemn oath, resolving that he would repeat the purport of it to Lily herself--that this should be the last attempt. 'What's the use of it? Everybody ridicules me. And I am ridiculous. I am an ass. It's all very well wanting to be the prime minister; but if you can't be prime minister, you must do without being prime minister.' Then he attempted to sing the old song--'Shall I, sighing in despair, die because a woman's fair? If she be not fair to me, what care I how fair she be?' But he did care, and he told himself that the song did him no good. As it was not time for him as yet to go to Lily, he threw himself on the sofa, and strove to read a book. Then all the weary nights of his journey prevailed over him, and he fell asleep.
When he woke it wanted quarter to six. He sprang up, and rushing out, jumped into a cab. 'Berkeley Square--as hard as you can go,' he said. 'Number --.' He thought of Rosalind, and her counsels to lovers as to the keeping of time, and reflected that in such an emergency as this, he might really have ruined himself by that unfortunate slumber. When he got to Mrs Thorne's door he knocked hurriedly, and bustled up to the drawing-room as though everything depended on his saving a minute. 'I'm afraid I'm ever so much behind my time,' he said.
'It does not matter in the least,' said Lily. 'As Mrs Arabin said that perhaps you might call, I would not be out of the way. I suppose that Sir Raffle was keeping you and that you wouldn't come.'
'Sir Raffle was not keeping me. I fell asleep. That's the truth of it.'
'I am so sorry that you should have been disturbed!'
'Do not laugh at me, Lily--today. I had been travelling a good deal, and I suppose I was tired.'
'I won't laugh at you,' she said, and her eyes became full of tears--she did not know why. But there they were, and she was ashamed to put up her handkerchief, and she could not bring herself to turn away her face, and she had no resource but that he should see them.
'Lily!' he said.
'What a paladin you have been, John, rushing all about Europe on your friend's behalf!'
'Don't talk about that.'
'And such a successful paladin too! Why am I not to talk about it? I am going home tomorrow, and I mean to talk about nothing else for a week. I am so very, very, glad that you have saved your cousin.' Then she did put up her handkerchief, making believe that her tears had been due to Mr Crawley. But John Eames knew better than that.
'Lily,' he said, 'I've come for the last time. It sounds as though I meant to threaten you; but you won't take it in that way. I think you will know what I mean. I have come for the last time--to ask you to be my wife.' She got up to greet him when he entered, and they were both still standing. She did not