The Small House at Allington - Anthony Trollope (i want to read a book txt) 📗

about it, and it wouldn’t be civil in me to contradict you.”

“What is it I want? You know very well what I want; or rather, I don’t want anything. What is it to me? It is nothing to me about L. D. You can go down to Allington and do what you like for me. Only I hate such ways.”

“What ways, Amelia?”

“What ways! Now, look here, Johnny: I’m not going to make a fool of myself for any man. When I came home here three months ago⁠—and I wish I never had;”⁠—she paused here a moment, waiting for a word of tenderness; but as the word of tenderness did not come, she went on⁠—“but when I did come home, I didn’t think there was a man in all London could make me care for him⁠—that I didn’t. And now you’re going away, without so much as hardly saying a word to me.” And then she brought out her handkerchief.

“What am I to say, when you keep on scolding me all the time?”

“Scolding you!⁠—And me too! No, Johnny, I ain’t scolding you, and don’t mean to. If it’s to be all over between us, say the word, and I’ll take myself away out of the house before you come back again. I’ve had no secrets from you. I can go back to my business in Manchester, though it is beneath my birth, and not what I’ve been used to. If L. D. is more to you than I am, I won’t stand in your way. Only say the word.”

L. D. was more to him than Amelia Roper⁠—ten times more to him. L. D. would have been everything to him, and Amelia Roper was worse than nothing. He felt all this at the moment, and struggled hard to collect an amount of courage that would make him free.

“Say the word,” said she, rising on her feet before him, “and all between you and me shall be over. I have got your promise, but I’d scorn to take advantage. If Amelia hasn’t got your heart, she’d despise to take your hand. Only I must have an answer.”

It would seem that an easy way of escape was offered to him; but the lady probably knew that the way as offered by her was not easy to such an one as John Eames.

“Amelia,” he said, still keeping his seat.

“Well, sir?”

“You know I love you.”

“And about L. D.?”

“If you choose to believe all the nonsense that Cradell puts into your head, I can’t help it. If you like to make yourself jealous about two letters, it isn’t my fault.”

“And you love me?” said she.

“Of course I love you.” And then, upon hearing these words, Amelia threw herself into his arms.

As the folding doors between the two rooms were not closed, and as Miss Spruce was sitting in her easy chair immediately opposite to them, it was probable that she saw what passed. But Miss Spruce was a taciturn old lady, not easily excited to any show of surprise or admiration; and as she had lived with Mrs. Roper for the last twelve years, she was probably well acquainted with her daughter’s ways.

“You’ll be true to me?” said Amelia, during the moment of that embrace⁠—“true to me forever?”

“Oh, yes; that’s a matter of course,” said Johnny Eames. And then she liberated him; and the two strolled into the front sitting-room.

“I declare, Mr. Eames,” said Mrs. Lupex, “I’m glad you’ve come. Here’s Mr. Cradell does say such queer things.”

“Queer things!” said Cradell. “Now, Miss Spruce, I appeal to you⁠—Have I said any queer things?”

“If you did, sir, I didn’t notice them,” said Miss Spruce.

“I noticed them, then,” said Mrs. Lupex. “An unmarried man like Mr. Cradell has no business to know whether a married lady wears a cap or her own hair⁠—has he, Mr. Eames?”

“I don’t think I ever know,” said Johnny, not intending any sarcasm on Mrs. Lupex.

“I dare say not, sir,” said the lady. “We all know where your attention is riveted. If you were to wear a cap, my dear, somebody would see the difference very soon⁠—wouldn’t they, Miss Spruce?”

“I dare say they would,” said Miss Spruce.

“If I could look as nice in a cap as you do, Mrs. Lupex, I’d wear one tomorrow,” said Amelia, who did not wish to quarrel with the married lady at the present moment. There were occasions, however, on which Mrs. Lupex and Miss Roper were by no means so gracious to each other.

“Does Lupex like caps?” asked Cradell.

“If I wore a plumed helmet on my head, it’s my belief he wouldn’t know the difference; nor yet if I had got no head at all. That’s what comes of getting married. If you’ll take my advice, Miss Roper, you’ll stay as you are; even though somebody should break his heart about it. Wouldn’t you, Miss Spruce?”

“Oh, as for me, I’m an old woman, you know,” said Miss Spruce, which was certainly true.

“I don’t see what any woman gets by marrying,” continued Mrs. Lupex. “But a man gains everything. He don’t know how to live, unless he’s got a woman to help him.”

“But is love to go for nothing?” said Cradell.

“Oh, love! I don’t believe in love. I suppose I thought I loved once, but what did it come to after all? Now, there’s Mr. Eames⁠—we all know he’s in love.”

“It comes natural to me, Mrs. Lupex. I was born so,” said Johnny.

“And there’s Miss Roper⁠—one never ought to speak free about a lady, but perhaps she’s in love too.”

“Speak for yourself, Mrs. Lupex,” said Amelia.

“There’s no harm in saying that, is there? I’m sure, if you ain’t, you’re very hardhearted; for, if ever there was a true lover, I believe you’ve got one of your own. My!⁠—if there’s not Lupex’s step on the stair! What can bring him home at this hour? If he’s been drinking, he’ll come home as cross as anything.” Then Mr. Lupex entered the room, and the pleasantness of the party was destroyed.

It may be said that neither Mrs. Cradell nor Mrs. Eames would have placed their