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

there was safety in their happiness. It was but the other day that one of them had been thrown rudely to the ground through the treachery of a lover, but yet none of them feared treachery from this lover. Bell was as sure of her lot in life as though she were already being taken home to her modest house in Guestwick. Mrs. Dale already looked upon the man as her son, and the party of four as they sat round the fire grouped themselves as though they already formed one family.

But Bell was not seated next to her lover. Lily, when she had once accepted Crosbie, seemed to think that she could never be too near to him. She had been in no wise ashamed of her love, and had shown it constantly by some little caressing motion of her hand, leaning on his arm, looking into his face, as though she were continually desirous of some palpable assurance of his presence. It was not so at all with Bell. She was happy in loving and in being loved, but she required no overt testimonies of affection. I do not think it would have made her unhappy if some sudden need had required that Crofts should go to India and back before they were married. The thing was settled, and that was enough for her. But, on the other hand, when he spoke of the expediency of an immediate marriage, she raised no difficulty. As her mother was about to go into a new residence, it might be as well that that residence should be fitted to the wants of two persons instead of three. So they talked about chairs and tables, carpets and kitchens, in a most unromantic, homely, useful manner! A considerable portion of the furniture in the house they were now about to leave belonged to the squire⁠—or to the house rather, as they were in the habit of saying. The older and more solid things⁠—articles of household stuff that stand the wear of half a century⁠—had been in the Small House when they came to it. There was, therefore, a question of buying new furniture for a house in Guestwick⁠—a question not devoid of importance to the possessor of so moderate an income as that owned by Mrs. Dale. In the first month or two they were to live in lodgings, and their goods were to be stored in some friendly warehouse. Under such circumstances would it not be well that Bell’s marriage should be so arranged that the lodging question might not be in any degree complicated by her necessities? This was the last suggestion made by Dr. Crofts, induced no doubt by the great encouragement he had received.

“That would be hardly possible,” said Mrs. Dale. “It only wants three weeks;⁠—and with the house in such a condition!”

“James is joking,” said Bell.

“I was not joking at all,” said the doctor.

“Why not send for Mr. Boyce, and carry her off at once on a pillion behind you?” said Lily. “It’s just the sort of thing for primitive people to do, like you and Bell. All the same, Bell, I do wish you could have been married from this house.”

“I don’t think it will make much difference,” said Bell.

“Only if you would have waited till summer we would have had such a nice party on the lawn. It sounds so ugly, being married from lodgings; doesn’t it, mamma?”

“It doesn’t sound at all ugly to me,” said Bell.

“I shall always call you Dame Commonplace when you’re married,” said Lily.

Then they had tea, and after tea Dr. Crofts got on his horse and rode back to Guestwick.

“Now may I talk about him?” said Lily, as soon as the door was closed behind his back.

“No; you may not.”

“As if I hadn’t known it all along! And wasn’t it hard to bear that you should have scolded me with such pertinacious austerity, and that I wasn’t to say a word in answer!”

“I don’t remember the austerity,” said Mrs. Dale.

“Nor yet Lily’s silence,” said Bell.

“But it’s all settled now,” said Lily, “and I’m downright happy. I never felt more satisfaction⁠—never, Bell!”

“Nor did I,” said her mother; “I may truly say that I thank God for this good thing.”

LI John Eames Does Things Which He Ought Not to Have Done

John Eames succeeded in making his bargain with Sir Raffle Buffle. He accepted the private secretaryship on the plainly expressed condition that he was to have leave of absence for a fortnight towards the end of April. Having arranged this he took an affectionate leave of Mr. Love, who was really much affected at parting with him, discussed valedictory pots of porter in the big room, over which many wishes were expressed that he might be enabled to compass the length and breadth of old Huffle’s feet, uttered a last cutting joke at Mr. Kissing as he met that gentleman hurrying through the passages with an enormous ledger in his hands, and then took his place in the comfortable armchair which FitzHoward had been forced to relinquish.

“Don’t tell any of the fellows,” said Fitz, “but I’m going to cut the concern altogether. My governor wouldn’t let me stop here in any other place than that of private secretary.”

“Ah, your governor is a swell,” said Eames.

“I don’t know about that,” said FitzHoward. “Of course he has a good deal of family interest. My cousin is to come in for St. Bungay at the next election, and then I can do better than remain here.”

“That’s a matter of course,” said Eames. “If my cousin were Member for St. Bungay, I’d never stand anything east of Whitehall.”

“And I don’t mean,” said FitzHoward. “This room, you know, is all very nice; but it is a bore coming into the City every day. And then one doesn’t like to be rung for like a servant. Not that I mean to put you out of conceit with it.”

“It will do very well for me,” said Eames. “I never was very particular.” And so they