The Small House at Allington
of marquises, by the greatness reflected from the parson's daughter
whom he had married. He had now been brought to Courcy Castle, and
felt himself proud of his situation because Lady Dumbello had made
considerable difficulty in according this week to the Countess De
Courcy.
And Lady Julia De Guest was already there, the sister of the other
old earl who lived in the next county. She had only arrived on the
day before, but had been quick in spreading the news as to Crosbie's
engagement. "Engaged to one of the Dales, is he?" said the countess,
with a pretty little smile, which showed plainly that the matter was
one of no interest to herself. "Has she got any money?"
"Not a shilling, I should think," said the Lady Julia.
"Pretty, I suppose?" suggested the countess.
"Why, yes; she is pretty--and a nice girl. I don't know whether her
mother and uncle were very wise in encouraging Mr. Crosbie. I don't
hear that he has anything special to recommend him,--in the way of
money I mean."
"I dare say it will come to nothing," said the countess, who liked to
hear of girls being engaged and then losing their promised husbands.
She did not know that she liked it, but she did; and already had
pleasure in anticipating poor Lily's discomfiture. But not the less
was she angry with Crosbie, feeling that he was making his way into
her house under false pretences.
And Alexandrina also was angry when Lady Julia repeated the same
tidings in her hearing. "I really don't think we care very much about
it, Lady Julia," said she, with a little toss of her head. "That's
three times we've been told of Miss Dale's good fortune."
"The Dales are related to you, I think?" said Margaretta.
"Not at all," said Lady Julia, bristling up. "The lady whom Mr.
Crosbie proposes to marry is in no way connected with us. Her cousin,
who is the heir to the Allington property, is my nephew by his
mother." And then the subject was dropped.
Crosbie, on his arrival, was shown up into his room, told the hour
of dinner, and left to his devices. He had been at the castle before,
and knew the ways of the house. So he sat himself down to his table,
and began a letter to Lily. But he had not proceeded far, not having
as yet indeed made up his mind as to the form in which he would
commence it, but was sitting idly with the pen in his hand, thinking
of Lily, and thinking also how such houses as this in which he now
found himself would be soon closed against him, when there came a rap
at his door, and before he could answer the Honourable John entered
the room.
"Well, old fellow," said the Honourable John, "how are you?"
Crosbie had been intimate with John De Courcy, but never felt for him
either friendship or liking. Crosbie did not like such men as John De
Courcy; but nevertheless, they called each other old fellow, poked
each other's ribs, and were very intimate.
"Heard you were here," continued the Honourable John; "so I thought I
would come up and look after you. Going to be married, ain't you?"
"Not that I know of," said Crosbie.
"Come, we know better than that. The women have been talking about it
for the last three days. I had her name quite pat yesterday, but I've
forgot it now. Hasn't got a tanner; has she?" And the Honourable John
had now seated himself upon the table.
"You seem to know a great deal more about it than I do."
"It is that old woman from Guestwick who told us, then. The women
will be at you at once, you'll find. If there's nothing in it, it's
what I call a d---- shame. Why should they always pull a fellow to
pieces in that way? They were going to marry me the other day!"
"Were they indeed, though?"
"To Harriet Twistleton. You know Harriet Twistleton? An uncommon fine
girl, you know. But I wasn't going to be caught like that. I'm very
fond of Harriet,--in my way, you know; but they don't catch an old
bird like me with chaff."
"I condole with Miss Twistleton for what she has lost."
"I don't know about condoling. But upon my word that getting married
is a very slow thing. Have you seen George's wife?"
Crosbie declared that he had not as yet had that pleasure.
"She's here now, you know. I wouldn't have taken her, not if she'd
had ten times thirty thousand pounds. By Jove, no. But he likes it
well enough. Would you believe it now?--he cares for nothing on earth
except money. You never saw such a fellow. But I'll tell you what,
his nose will be out of joint yet, for Porlock is going to marry. I
heard it from Colepepper, who almost lives with Porlock. As soon as
Porlock heard that she was in the family way he immediately made up
his mind to cut him out."
"That was a great sign of brotherly love," said Crosbie.
"I knew he'd do it," said John; "and so I told George before he got
himself spliced. But he would go on. If he'd remained as he was for
four or five years longer there would have been no danger;--for
Porlock, you know, is leading the deuce of a life. I shouldn't wonder
if he didn't reform now, and take to singing psalms or something of
that sort."
"There's no knowing what a man may come to in this world."
"By George, no. But I'll tell you what, they'll find no change in me.
If I marry it will not be with the intention of giving up life. I
say, old fellow, have you got a cigar here?"
"What, to smoke up here, do you mean?"
"Yes; why not? we're ever so far from the women."
"Not whilst I am occupier of this room. Besides, it's time to dress
for dinner."
"Is it? So it is, by George! But I mean to have a smoke first, I can
tell you. So it's all a lie about your being engaged; eh?"
"As far as I know, it is," said Crosbie. And then his friend left
him.
What was he to do at once, now, this very day, as to his engagement?
He had felt sure that the report of it would be carried to Courcy by
Lady Julia De Guest, but he had not settled down upon any resolution
as to what he would do in consequence. It had not occurred to him
that he would immediately be charged with the offence, and called
upon to plead guilty or not guilty. He had never for a moment
meditated any plea of not guilty, but he was aware of an aversion
on his part to declare himself as engaged to Lilian Dale. It seemed
that by doing so he would cut himself off at once from all pleasure
at such houses as Courcy Castle; and, as he argued to himself, why
should he not enjoy the little remnant of his bachelor life? As to
his denying his engagement to John De Courcy,--that was nothing. Any
one would understand that he would be justified in concealing a fact
concerning himself from such a one as he. The denial repeated from
John's mouth would amount to nothing,--even among John's own sisters.
But now it was necessary that Crosbie should make up his mind as to
what he would say when questioned by the ladies of the house. If he
were to deny the fact to them the denial would be very serious. And,
indeed, was it possible that he should make such denial with Lady
Julia opposite to him?
Make such a denial! And was it the fact that he could wish to do
so,--that he should think of such falsehood, and even meditate on the
perpetration of such cowardice? He had held that young girl to his
heart on that very morning. He had sworn to her, and had also sworn
to himself, that she should have no reason for distrusting him. He
had acknowledged most solemnly to himself that, whether for good or
for ill, he was bound to her; and could it be that he was already
calculating as to the practicability of disowning her? In doing so
must he not have told himself that he was a villain? But in truth
he made no such calculation. His object was to banish the subject,
if it were possible to do so; to think of some answer by which he
might create a doubt. It did not occur to him to tell the countess
boldly that there was no truth whatever in the report, and that Miss
Dale was nothing to him. But might he not skilfully laugh off the
subject, even in the presence of Lady Julia? Men who were engaged
did so usually, and why should not he? It was generally thought that
solicitude for the lady's feelings should prevent a man from talking
openly of his own engagement. Then he remembered the easy freedom
with which his position had been discussed throughout the whole
neighbourhood of Allington, and felt for the first time that the Dale
family had been almost indelicate in their want of reticence. "I
suppose it was done to tie me the faster," he said to himself, as he
pulled out the ends of his cravat. "What a fool I was to come here,
or indeed to go anywhere, after settling myself as I have done." And
then he went down into the drawing-room.
It was almost a relief to him when he found that he was not charged
with his sin at once. He himself had been so full of the subject that
he had expected to be attacked at the moment of his entrance. He was,
however, greeted without any allusion to the matter. The countess, in
her own quiet way, shook hands with him as though she had seen him
only the day before. The earl, who was seated in his arm-chair, asked
some one, out loud, who the stranger was, and then, with two fingers
put forth, muttered some apology for a welcome. But Crosbie was quite
up to that kind of thing. "How do, my lord?" he said, turning his
face away to some one else as he spoke; and then he took no further
notice of the master of the house. "Not know him, indeed!" Crippled
though he was by his matrimonial bond, Crosbie felt that, at any rate
as yet, he was the earl's equal in social importance. After that, he
found himself in the back part of the drawing-room, away from the
elder people, standing with Lady Alexandrina, with Miss Gresham, a
cousin of the De Courcys, and sundry other of the younger portion of
the assembled community.
"So you have Lady Dumbello here?" said Crosbie.
"Oh, yes; the dear creature!" said Lady Margaretta. "It was so good
of her to come, you know."
"She positively refused the Duchess of St. Bungay," said Alexandrina.
"I hope you perceive how good we've been to you in getting you to
meet her. People have actually asked to come."
"I am grateful; but, in truth, my gratitude has more to do with
Courcy Castle and its habitual inmates, than with Lady Dumbello. Is
he here?"
"Oh, yes! he's in the room somewhere. There he is, standing up by
Lady Clandidlem. He always stands in that way before dinner. In the
evening he sits down much after the same fashion."
Crosbie had seen him on first entering the room, and had seen every
individual in it. He knew better than to omit the duty of that
scrutinizing glance; but it sounded well in his line not to have
observed Lord Dumbello.
"And her ladyship is not down?" said he.
"She is generally last," said Lady Margaretta.
"And yet she has always three women to dress her," said Alexandrina.
"But when finished, what a success it is!" said Crosbie.
"Indeed it is!" said Margaretta, with energy. Then the door was
opened, and Lady Dumbello entered the room.
There was immediately a commotion among them all. Even the gouty old
lord shuffled up out of his chair, and tried, with a grin, to look
sweet and pleasant. The countess came forward, looking very sweet
and pleasant, making little complimentary speeches, to which the
viscountess answered simply by a gracious smile. Lady Clandidlem,
though she was very fat and heavy, left the viscount, and got up
to join the group. Baron Potsneuf, a diplomatic German of great
celebrity, crossed his hands upon his breast and made a low bow. The
Honourable George, who had stood silent for the last quarter of an
hour, suggested to her ladyship that she must have found the air
rather cold; and the Ladies Margaretta and Alexandrina fluttered
up with little complimentary speeches to their dear Lady Dumbello,