The Last Chronicle of Barset

by Anthony Trollope

  CHAPTER XXXIX.

  A NEW FLIRTATION.

  John Eames sat at his office on the day after his return to London,and answered the various letters which he had found waiting for himat his lodgings on the previous evening. To Miss Demolines he hadalready written from his club,--a single line, which he considered tobe appropriate to the mysterious necessities of the occasion. "I willbe with you at a quarter to six to-morrow.--J. E. Just returned."There was not another word; and as he scrawled it at one of the clubtables while two or three men were talking to him, he felt ratherproud of his correspondence. "It was capital fun," he said; "andafter all,"--the "all" on this occasion being Lily Dale, and thesadness of his disappointment at Allington,--"after all, let a fellowbe ever so down in the mouth, a little amusement should do him good."And he reflected further that the more a fellow be "down in themouth," the more good the amusement would do him. He sent off hisnote, therefore, with some little inward rejoicing,--and a word ortwo also of spoken rejoicing. "What fun women are sometimes," hesaid to one of his friends,--a friend with whom he was very intimate,calling him always Fred, and slapping his back, but whom he never byany chance saw out of his club.

  "What's up now, Johnny? Some good fortune?"

  "Good fortune; no. I never have good fortunes of that kind. But I'vegot hold of a young woman,--or rather a young woman has got hold ofme, who insists on having a mystery with me. In the mystery itselfthere is not the slightest interest. But the mysteriousness ofit is charming. I have just written to her three words to settlean appointment for to-morrow. We don't sign our names lest thePostmaster-General should find out all about it."

  "Is she pretty?"

  "Well;--she isn't ugly. She has just enough of good looks to make thesort of thing pass off pleasantly. A mystery with a downright uglyyoung woman would be unpleasant."

  After this fashion the note from Miss Demolines had been received,and answered at once, but the other letters remained in his pockettill he reached his office on the following morning. Sir Raffle hadbegged him to be there at half-past nine. This he had sworn he wouldnot do; but he did seat himself in his room at ten minutes beforeten, finding of course the whole building untenanted at that earlyhour,--that unearthly hour, as Johnny called it himself. "I shouldn'twonder if he really is here this morning," Johnny said, as he enteredthe building, "just that he may have an opportunity of jumping onme." But Sir Raffle was not there, and then Johnny began to abuse SirRaffle. "If ever I come here early to meet him again, because he sayshe means to be here himself, I hope I may be ---- blessed." On thatespecial morning it was twelve before Sir Raffle made his appearance,and Johnny avenged himself,--I regret to have to tell it,--by a fib.That Sir Raffle fibbed first, was no valid excuse whatever for Eames.

  "I've been at it ever since six o'clock," said Sir Raffle.

  "At what?" said Johnny.

  "Work, to be sure;--and very hard work too. I believe the Chancellorof the Exchequer thinks that he can call upon me to any extent thathe pleases;--just any extent that he pleases. He doesn't give mecredit for a desire to have a single hour to myself."

  "What would he do, Sir Raffle, if you were to get ill, or wearyourself out?"

  "He knows I'm not one of the wearing-out sort. You got my note lastnight?"

  "Yes; I got your note."

  "I'm sorry that I troubled you; but I couldn't help it. I didn'texpect to get a box full of papers at eleven o'clock last night."

  "You didn't put me out, Sir Raffle; I happened to have business of myown which prevented the possibility of my being here early."

  This was the way in which John Eames avenged himself. Sir Raffleturned his face upon his private secretary, and his face was veryblack. Johnny bore the gaze without dropping an eyelid. "I'm notgoing to stand it, and he may as well know that at once," Johnny saidto one of his friends in the office afterwards. "If he ever wants anything really done, I'll do it;--though it should take me twelve hoursat a stretch. But I'm not going to pretend to believe all the lieshe tells me about the Chancellor of the Exchequer. If that is to bepart of the private secretary's business, he had better get somebodyelse." But now Sir Raffle was very angry, and his countenance wasfull of wrath as he looked down upon his subordinate minister. "IfI had come here, Mr. Eames, and had found you absent, I shouldhave been very much annoyed, very much annoyed indeed, after havingwritten as I did."

  "You would have found me absent at the hour you named. As I wasn'there then, I think it's only fair to say so."

  "I'm afraid you begrudge your time to the service, Mr. Eames."

  "I do begrudge it when the service doesn't want it."

  "At your age, Mr. Eames, that's not for you to judge. If I had actedin that way when I was young I should never have filled the positionI now hold. I always remembered in those days that as I was the handand not the head, I was bound to hold myself in readiness whetherwork might be required from me or not."

  "If I'm wanted as hand now, Sir Raffle, I'm ready."

  "That's all very well;--but why were you not here at the hour Inamed?"

  "Well, Sir Raffle, I cannot say that the Chancellor of the Exchequerdetained me;--but there was business. As I've been here for the lasttwo hours, I am happy to think that in this instance the publicservice will not have suffered from my disobedience."

  Sir Raffle was still standing with his hat on, and with his back tothe fire, and his countenance was full of wrath. It was on his tongueto tell Johnny that he had better return to his former work in theouter office. He greatly wanted the comfort of a private secretarywho would believe in him--or at least pretend to believe in him.There are men who, though they have not sense enough to be true,have nevertheless sense enough to know that they cannot expect to bereally believed in by those who are near enough to them to know them.Sir Raffle Buffle was such a one. He would have greatly delightedin the services of some one who would trust him implicitly,--ofsome young man who would really believe all that he said of himselfand of the Chancellor of the Exchequer; but he was wise enough toperceive that no such young man was to be had; or that any such youngman,--could such a one be found,--would be absolutely useless for anypurposes of work. He knew himself to be a liar whom nobody trusted.And he knew himself also to be a bully,--though he could not think solow of himself as to believe that he was a bully whom nobody feared.A private secretary was at the least bound to pretend to believe inhim. There is a decency in such things, and that decency John Eamesdid not observe. He thought that he must get rid of John Eames, inspite of certain attractions which belonged to Johnny's appearanceand general manners, and social standing, and reputed wealth. Butit would not be wise to punish a man on the spot for breaking anappointment which he himself had not kept, and therefore he wouldwait for another opportunity. "You had better go to your own roomnow," he said. "I am engaged on a matter connected with the Treasury,in which I will not ask for your assistance." He knew that Eameswould not believe a word as to what he said about the Treasury,--noteven some very trifling base of truth which did exist; but the boastgave him an opportunity of putting an end to the interview after hisown fashion. Then John Eames went to his own room and answered theletters which he had in his pocket.

  To the club dinner he would not go. "What's the use of paying twoguineas for a dinner with fellows you see every day of your life?"he said. To Lady Glencora's he would go, and he wrote a line to hisfriend Dalrymple proposing that they should go together. And he woulddine with his cousin Toogood in Tavistock Square. "One meets thequeerest people in the world there," he said; "but Tommy Toogood issuch a good fellow himself!" After that he had his lunch. Then heread the paper, and before he went away he wrote a dozen or two ofprivate notes, presenting Sir Raffle's compliments right and left,and giving in no one note a single word of information that could beof any use to any person. Having thus earned his salary by half-pastfour o'clock he got into a hansom cab and had himself driven toPorchester Terrace. Miss Demolines was at home, of course, and hesoon found himself closeted with that i
nteresting young woman.

  "I thought you never would have come." These were the first words shespoke.

  "My dear Miss Demolines, you must not forget that I have my bread toearn."

  "Fiddlestick--bread! As if I didn't know that you can get away fromyour office when you choose."

  "But, indeed, I cannot."

  "What is there to prevent you, Mr. Eames?"

  "I'm not tied up like a dog, certainly; but who do you suppose willdo my work if I do not do it myself? It is a fact, though the worlddoes not believe it, that men in public offices have got something todo."

  "Now you are laughing at me, I know; but you are welcome, if you likeit. It's the way of the world just at present that ladies shouldsubmit to that sort of thing from gentlemen."

  "What sort of thing, Miss Demolines?"

  "Chaff,--as you call it. Courtesy is out of fashion, and gallantryhas come to signify quite a different kind of thing from what it usedto do."

  "The Sir Charles Grandison business is done and gone. That's what youmean, I suppose? Don't you think we should find it very heavy if wetried to get it back again?"

  "I'm not going to ask you to be a Sir Charles Grandison, Mr.Eames. But never mind all that now. Do you know that that girl hasabsolutely had her first sitting for the picture?"

  "Has she, indeed?"

  "She has. You may take my word for it. I know it as a fact. What afool that young man is!"

  "Which young man?"

  "Which young man! Conway Dalrymple to be sure. Artists are alwaysweak. Of all men in the world they are the most subject to flatteryfrom women; and we all know that Conway Dalrymple is very vain."

  "Upon my word I didn't know it," said Johnny.

  "Yes, you do. You must know it. When a man goes about in a purplevelvet coat of course he is vain."

  "I certainly cannot defend a purple velvet coat."

  "That is what he wore when this girl sat to him this morning."

  "This morning was it?"

  "Yes; this morning. They little think that they can do nothingwithout my knowing it. He was there for nearly four hours, and shewas dressed up in a white robe as Jael, with a turban on her head.Jael, indeed! I call it very improper, and I am quite astonished thatMaria Clutterbuck should have lent herself to such a piece of work.That Maria was never very wise, of course we all know; but I thoughtthat she had principle enough to have kept her from this kind ofthing."

  "It's her fevered existence," said Johnny.

  "That is just it. She must have excitement. It is like dram-drinking.And then, you know, they are always living in the crater of avolcano."

  "Who are living in the crater of a volcano?"

  "The Dobbs Broughtons are. Of course they are. There is no sayingwhat day a smash may come. These City people get so used to it thatthey enjoy it. The risk is every thing to them."

  "They like to have a little certainty behind the risk, I fancy."

  "I'm afraid there is very little that's certain with Dobbs Broughton.But about this picture, Mr. Eames. I look to you to assist me there.It must be put a stop to. As to that I am determined. It must be--puta--stop to." And as Miss Demolines repeated these last words withtremendous emphasis she leant with both her elbows on a little tablethat stood between her and her visitor, and looked with all her eyesinto his face. "I do hope that you agree with me in that," said she.

  "Upon my word I do not see the harm of the picture," said he.

  "You do not?"

  "Indeed, no. Why should not Dalrymple paint Miss Van Siever as wellas any other lady? It is his special business to paint ladies."

  "Look here, Mr. Eames.--" And now Miss Demolines, as she spoke, drewher own seat closer to that of her companion and pushed away thelittle table. "Do you suppose that Conway Dalrymple, in the usualway of his business, paints pictures of young ladies, of which theirmothers know nothing? Do you suppose that he paints them in ladies'rooms without their husbands' knowledge? And in the common way of hisbusiness does he not expect to be paid for his pictures?"

  "But what is all that to you and me, Miss Demolines?"

  "Is the welfare of your friend nothing to you? Would you like to seehim become the victim of the artifice of such a girl as Clara VanSiever?"

  "Upon my word I think he is very well able to take care of himself."

  "And would you wish to see that poor creature's domestic hearthruined and broken up?"

  "Which poor creature?"

  "Dobbs Broughton, to be sure."

  "I can't pretend that I care very much for Dobbs Broughton," saidJohn Eames; "and you see I know so little about his domestic hearth."

  "Oh, Mr. Eames!"

  "Besides, her principles will pull her through. You told me yourselfthat Mrs. Broughton has high principles."

  "God forbid that I should say a word against Maria Clutterbuck," saidMiss Demolines, fervently. "Maria Clutterbuck was my early friend,and though words have been spoken which never should have beenspoken, and though things have been done which never should have beeneven dreamed of, still I will not desert Maria Clutterbuck in herhour of need. No, never!"

  "I'm sure you're what one may call a trump to your friends, MissDemolines."

  "I have always endeavoured to be so, and always shall. You will findme so;--that is if you and I ever become intimate enough to feel thatsort of friendship."

  "There's nothing on earth I should like better," said Johnny. Assoon as the words were out of his mouth he felt ashamed of himself.He knew that he did not in truth desire the friendship of MissDemolines, and that any friendship with such a one would meansomething different from friendship,--something that would be aninjury to Lily Dale. A week had hardly passed since he had sworn alife's constancy to Lily Dale,--had sworn it, not to her only, but tohimself; and now he was giving way to a flirtation with this woman,not because he liked it himself, but because he was too weak to keepout of it.

  "If that is true--," said Miss Demolines.

  "Oh, yes; it's quite true," said Johnny.

  "Then you must earn my friendship by doing what I ask of you. Thatpicture must not be painted. You must tell Conway Dalrymple as hisfriend that he must cease to carry on such an intrigue in anotherman's house."

  "You would hardly call painting a picture an intrigue; would you?"

  "Certainly I would when it's kept a secret from the husband by thewife,--and from the mother by the daughter. If it cannot be stoppedin any other way, I must tell Mrs. Van Siever;--I must, indeed. Ihave such an abhorrence of the old woman, that I could not bringmyself to speak to her,--but I should write to her. That's what Ishould do."

  "But what's the reason? You might as well tell me the real reason."Had Miss Demolines been christened Mary, or Fanny, or Jane, I thinkthat John Eames would now have called her by either of those names;but Madalina was such a mouthful that he could not bring himself touse it at once. He had heard that among her intimates she was calledMaddy. He had an idea that he had heard Dalrymple in old times talkof her as Maddy Mullins, and just at this moment the idea was notpleasant to him; at any rate he could not call her Maddy as yet. "Howam I to help you," he said, "unless I know all about it?"

  "I hate that girl like poison!" said Miss Demolines, confidentially,drawing herself very near to Johnny as she spoke.

  "But what has she done?"

  "What has she done? I can't tell you what she has done. I could notdemean myself by repeating it. Of course we all know what she wants.She wants to catch Conway Dalrymple. That's as plain as anything canbe. Not that I care about that."

  "Of course not," said Johnny.

  "Not in the least. It's nothing to me. I have known Mr. Dalrymple,no doubt, for a year or two, and I should be sorry to see a youngman who has his good points sacrificed in that sort of way. But itis mere acquaintance between Mr. Dalrymple and me, and of course Icannot interfere."

  "She'll have a lot of money, you know."

  "He thinks so; does he? I suppose that is what Maria has told him.Oh, Mr. Eames, you don't
know the meanness of women; you don't,indeed. Men are so much more noble."

  "Are they, do you think?"

  "Than some women. I see women doing things that really disgustme; I do, indeed;--things that I wouldn't do myself, were it everso;--striving to catch men in every possible way, and for suchpurposes! I wouldn't have believed it of Maria Clutterbuck. Iwouldn't indeed. However, I will never say a word against her,because she has been my friend. Nothing shall ever induce me."

  John Eames before he left Porchester Terrace, had at last succeededin calling his fair friend Madalina, and had promised that he wouldendeavour to open the artist's eyes to the folly of painting hispicture in Broughton's house without Broughton's knowledge.