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

Mrs. Dale now adopted; and as she made her way into the hall Lily came upon her, with very silent steps, out from the parlour, and arrested her progress. There was a smile upon Lily’s face as she lifted up her finger as if in caution, and no one looking at her would have supposed that she was herself in trouble. “Mamma,” she said, pointing to the drawing-room door, and speaking almost in a whisper, “you must not go in there; come into the parlour.”

“Who’s there? Where’s Bell?” and Mrs. Dale went into the parlour as she was bidden. “But who is there?” she repeated.

“He’s there!”

“Who is he?”

“Oh, mamma, don’t be a goose! Dr. Crofts is there, of course. He’s been nearly an hour. I wonder how he is managing, for there is nothing on earth to sit upon but the old lump of a carpet. The room is strewed about with crockery, and Bell is such a figure! She has got on your old checked apron, and when he came in she was rolling up the fire-irons in brown paper. I don’t suppose she was ever in such a mess before. There’s one thing certain⁠—he can’t kiss her hand.”

“It’s you are the goose, Lily.”

“But he’s in there certainly, unless he has gone out through the window, or up the chimney.”

“What made you leave them?”

“He met me here, in the passage, and spoke to me ever so seriously. ‘Come in,’ I said, ‘and see Bell packing the pokers and tongs.’ ‘I will go in,’ he said, ‘but don’t come with me.’ He was ever so serious, and I’m sure he had been thinking of it all the way along.”

“And why should he not be serious?”

“Oh, no, of course he ought to be serious; but are you not glad, mamma? I am so glad. We shall live alone together, you and I; but she will be so close to us! My belief is that he’ll stay there forever unless somebody does something. I have been so tired of waiting and looking out for you. Perhaps he’s helping her to pack the things. Don’t you think we might go in; or would it be ill-natured?”

“Lily, don’t be in too great a hurry to say anything. You may be mistaken, you know; and there’s many a slip between the cup and the lip.”

“Yes, mamma, there is,” said Lily, putting her hand inside her mother’s arm, “that’s true enough.”

“Oh, my darling, forgive me,” said the mother, suddenly remembering that the use of the old proverb at the present moment had been almost cruel.

“Do not mind it,” said Lily, “it does not hurt me, it does me good; that is to say, when there is nobody by except yourself. But, with God’s help, there shall be no slip here, and she shall be happy. It is all the difference between one thing done in a hurry, and another done with much thinking. But they’ll remain there forever if we don’t go in. Come, mamma, you open the door.”

Then Mrs. Dale did open the door, giving some little premonitory notice with the handle, so that the couple inside might be warned of approaching footsteps. Crofts had not escaped, either through the window or up the chimney, but was seated in the middle of the room on an empty box, just opposite to Bell, who was seated upon the lump of carpeting. Bell still wore the checked apron as described by her sister. What might have been the state of her hands I will not pretend to say; but I do not believe that her lover had found anything amiss with them. “How do you do, doctor?” said Mrs. Dale, striving to use her accustomed voice, and to look as though there were nothing of special importance in his visit. “I have just come down from the Great House.”

“Mamma,” said Bell, jumping up, “you must not call him doctor any more.”

“Must I not? Has anyone undoctored him?”

“Oh, mamma, you understand,” said Bell.

“I understand,” said Lily, going up to the doctor, and giving him her cheek to kiss, “he is to be my brother, and I mean to claim him as such from this moment. I expect him to do everything for us, and not to call a moment of his time his own.”

“Mrs. Dale,” said the doctor, “Bell has consented that it shall be so, if you will consent.”

“There is but little doubt of that,” said Mrs. Dale.

“We shall not be rich⁠—” began the doctor.

“I hate to be rich,” said Bell. “I hate even to talk about it. I don’t think it quite manly even to think about it; and I’m sure it isn’t womanly.”

“Bell was always a fanatic in praise of poverty,” said Mrs. Dale.

“No; I’m no fanatic. I’m very fond of money earned. I would like to earn some myself if I knew how.”

“Let her go out and visit the lady patients,” said Lily. “They do in America.”

Then they all went into the parlour and sat round the fire talking as though they were already one family. The proceeding, considering the nature of it⁠—that a young lady, acknowledged to be of great beauty and known to be of good birth, had on the occasion been asked and given in marriage⁠—was carried on after a somewhat humdrum fashion, and in a manner that must be called commonplace. How different had it been when Crosbie had made his offer! Lily for the time had been raised to a pinnacle⁠—a pinnacle which might be dangerous, but which was, at any rate, lofty. With what a pretty speech had Crosbie been greeted! How it had been felt by all concerned that the fortunes of the Small House were in the ascendant⁠—felt, indeed, with some trepidation, but still with much inward triumph. How great had been the occasion, forcing Lily almost to lose herself in wonderment at what had occurred! There was no great occasion now, and no wonderment. No one, unless it was Crofts, felt very triumphant. But they were all very happy, and were sure that