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The Last Chronicle of Barset

Page 82

by Anthony Trollope


  CHAPTER LXXX.

  MISS DEMOLINES DESIRES TO BECOME A FINGER-POST.

  John Eames had passed Mrs. Thorne in the hall of her own house almostwithout noticing her as he took his departure from Lily Dale. She hadtold him as plainly as words could speak that she could not bringherself to be his wife,--and he had believed her. He had sworn tohimself that if he did not succeed now he would never ask her again."It would be foolish and unmanly to do so," he said to himself as herushed along the street towards his club. No! That romance was over.At last there had come an end to it! "It has taken a good bit out ofme," he said, arresting his steps suddenly that he might stand stilland think of it all. "By George, yes! A man doesn't go through thatkind of thing without losing some of the caloric. I couldn't do itagain if an angel came in my way." He went to his club, and tried tobe jolly. He ordered a good dinner, and got some man to come and dinewith him. For an hour or so he held himself up, and did appear to bejolly. But as he walked home at night, and gave himself time to thinkover what had taken place with deliberation, he stopped in the gloomof a deserted street and leaning against the rails burst into tears.He had really loved her and she was never to be his. He had wantedher,--and it is so painful a thing to miss what you want when youhave done your very best to obtain it! To struggle in vain alwayshurts the pride; but the wound made by the vain struggle for a womanis sorer than any other wound so made. He gnashed his teeth, andstruck the iron railings with his stick;--and then he hurried home,swearing that he would never give another thought to Lily Dale. Inthe dead of the night, thinking of it still, he asked himself whetherit would not be a fine thing to wait another ten years, and then goto her again. In such a way would he not make himself immortal as alover beyond any Jacob or any Leander?

  The next day he went to his office and was very grave. When SirRaffle complimented him on being back before his time, he simply saidthat when he had accomplished that for which he had gone, he had, ofcourse, come back. Sir Raffle could not get a word out from him aboutMr. Crawley. He was very grave, and intent upon his work. Indeedhe was so serious that he quite afflicted Sir Raffle,--whose mockactivity felt itself to be confounded by the official zeal of hisprivate secretary. During the whole of that day Johnny was resolvingthat there could be no cure for his malady but hard work. He wouldnot only work hard at the office if he remained there, but he wouldtake to heavy reading. He rather thought that he would go deep intoGreek and do a translation, or take up the exact sciences and makea name for himself that way. But as he had enough for the life of asecluded literary man without his salary, he rather thought that hewould give up his office altogether. He had a mutton chop at homethat evening, and spent his time in endeavouring to read out loud tohimself certain passages from the Iliad;--for he had bought a Homeras he returned from his office. At nine o'clock he went, half-price,to the Strand Theatre. How he met there his old friend Boulger andwent afterwards to "The Cock" and had a supper need not here be toldwith more accurate detail.

  On the evening of the next day he was bound by his appointment to goto Porchester Terrace. In the moments of his enthusiasm about Homerhe had declared to himself that he would never go near Miss Demolinesagain. Why should he? All that kind of thing was nothing to himnow. He would simply send her his compliments and say that he wasprevented by business from keeping his engagement. She, of course,would go on writing to him for a time, but he would simply leaveher letters unanswered, and the thing, of course, would come to anend at last. He afterwards said something to Boulger about MissDemolines,--but that was during the jollity of their supper,--and hethen declared that he would follow out that little game. "I don't seewhy a fellow isn't to amuse himself, eh, Boulger, old boy?" Boulgerwinked and grinned, and said that some amusements were dangerous. "Idon't think that there is any danger there," said Johnny. "I don'tbelieve she is thinking of that kind of thing herself;--not with meat least. What she likes is the pretence of a mystery; and as it isamusing I don't see why a fellow shouldn't indulge her." But thatdetermination was pronounced after two mutton chops at "The Cock,"between one and two o'clock in the morning. On the next day he wascooler and wiser. Greek he thought might be tedious as he discoveredthat he would have to begin again from the very alphabet. He wouldtherefore abandon that idea. Greek was not the thing for him, buthe would take up the sanitary condition of the poor in London. Afellow could be of some use in that way. In the meantime he wouldkeep his appointment with Miss Demolines, simply because it was anappointment. A gentleman should always keep his word to a lady!

  He did keep his appointment with Miss Demolines, and was with heralmost precisely at the hour she had named. She received him with amysterious tranquillity which almost perplexed him. He remembered,however, that the way to enjoy the society of Miss Demolines was totake her in all her moods with perfect seriousness, and was thereforevery tranquil himself. On the present occasion she did not rise as heentered the room, and hardly spoke as she tendered to him the tipsof her fingers to be touched. As she said almost nothing, he saidnothing at all, but sank into a chair and stretched his legs outcomfortably before him. It had been always understood between themthat she was to bear the burden of the conversation.

  "You'll have a cup of tea?" she said.

  "Yes;--if you do." Then the page brought the tea, and John Eamesamused himself with swallowing three slices of very thin bread andbutter.

  "None for me,--thanks," said Madalina. "I rarely eat after dinner,and not often much then. I fancy that I should best like a world inwhich there was no eating."

  "A good dinner is a very good thing," said John. And then there wasagain silence. He was aware that some great secret was to be told tohim during this evening, but he was much too discreet to show anycuriosity upon that subject. He sipped his tea to the end, and then,having got up to put his cup down, stood on the rug with his back tothe fire. "Have you been out to-day?" he asked.

  "Indeed I have."

  "And you are tired?"

  "Very tired!"

  "Then perhaps I had better not keep you up."

  "Your remaining will make no difference in that respect. I don'tsuppose that I shall be in bed for the next four hours. But do as youlike about going."

  "I am in no hurry," said Johnny. Then he sat down again, stretchedout his legs and made himself comfortable.

  "I have been to see that woman," said Madalina after a pause.

  "What woman?"

  "Maria Clutterbuck,--as I must always call her; for I cannot bringmyself to pronounce the name of that poor wretch who was done todeath."

  "He blew his brains out in delirium tremens," said Johnny.

  "And what made him drink?" said Madalina with emphasis. "Never mind.I decline altogether to speak of it. Such a scene as I have had! Iwas driven at last to tell her what I thought of her. Anything socallous, so heartless, so selfish, so stone-cold, and so childish,I never saw before! That Maria was childish and selfish I alwaysknew;--but I thought there was some heart,--a vestige of heart. Ifound to-day that there was none,--none. If you please we won't speakof her any more."

  "Certainly not," said Johnny.

  "You need not wonder that I am tired and feverish."

  "That sort of thing is fatiguing, I dare say. I don't know whether wedo not lose more than we gain by those strong emotions."

  "I would rather die and go beneath the sod at once, than live withoutthem," said Madalina.

  "It's a matter of taste," said Johnny.

  "It is there that that poor wretch is so deficient. She is thinkingnow, this moment, of nothing but her creature comforts. That tragedyhas not even stirred her pulses."

  "If her pulses were stirred ever so, that would not make her happy."

  "Happy! Who is happy? Are you happy?"

  Johnny thought of Lily Dale and paused before he answered. No;certainly he was not happy. But he was not going to talk about hisunhappiness to Miss Demolines! "Of course I am;--as jolly as asandboy," he said.

  "Mr. Eames," said Madalina raising herself
on her sofa, "if you cannot express yourself in language more suitable to the occasion and tothe scene than that, I think that you had better--"

  "Hold my tongue."

  "Just so;--though I should not have chosen myself to use words soabruptly discourteous."

  "What did I say;--jolly as a sandboy? There is nothing wrong in that.What I meant was, that I think that this world is a very good sort ofworld, and that a man can get along in it very well, if he minds his_p_'s and _q_'s."

  "But suppose it's a woman?"

  "Easier still."

  "And suppose she does not mind her _p_'s and _q_'s?"

  "Women always do."

  "Do they? Your knowledge of women goes as far as that, does it? Tellme fairly;--do you think you know anything about women?" Madalinaas she asked the question, looked full into his face, and shook herlocks and smiled. When she shook her locks and smiled, there was acertain attraction about her of which John Eames was fully sensible.She could throw a special brightness into her eyes, which, though itprobably betokened nothing truly beyond ill-natured mischief, seemedto convey a promise of wit and intellect.

  "I don't mean to make any boast about it," said Johnny.

  "I doubt whether you know anything. The pretty simplicity of yourexcellent Lily Dale has sufficed for you."

  "Never mind about her," said Johnny impatiently.

  "I do not mind about her in the least. But an insight into that sortof simplicity will not teach you the character of a real woman. Youcannot learn the flavour of wines by sipping sherry and water. Formyself I do not think that I am simple. I own it fairly. If you musthave simplicity, I cannot be to your taste."

  "Nobody likes partridge always," said Johnny laughing.

  "I understand you, sir. And though what you say is not complimentary,I am willing to forgive that fault for its truth. I don't considermyself to be always partridge, I can assure you. I am as changeableas the moon."

  "And as fickle?"

  "I say nothing about that, sir. I leave you to find that out. It isa man's business to discover that for himself. If you really do knowaught of women--"

  "I did not say that I did."

  "But if you do, you will perhaps have discovered that a woman may beas changeable as the moon, and yet as true as the sun;--that she mayflit from flower to flower, quite unheeding while no passion exists,but that a passion fixes her at once. Do you believe me?" Now shelooked into his eyes again, but did not smile and did not shake herlocks.

  "Oh yes;--that's true enough. And when they have a lot of children,then they become steady as milestones."

  "Children!" said Madalina, getting up and walking about the room.

  "They do have them you know," said Johnny.

  "Do you mean to say, sir, that I should be a milestone?"

  "A finger-post," said Johnny, "to show a fellow the way he ought togo."

  She walked twice across the room without speaking. Then she came andstood opposite to him, still without speaking,--and then she walkedabout again. "What could a woman better be, than a finger-post, asyou call it, with such a purpose?"

  "Nothing better, of course;--though a milestone to tell a fellow hisdistances, is very good."

  "Psha!"

  "You don't like the idea of being a milestone."

  "No!"

  "Then you can make up your mind to be a finger-post."

  "John, shall I be a finger-post for you?" She stood and looked at himfor a moment or two, with her eyes full of love, as though she weregoing to throw herself into his arms. And she would have done so, nodoubt, instantly, had he risen to his legs. As it was, after havinggazed at him for the moment with her love-laden eyes, she flungherself on the sofa, and hid her face among the cushions.

  He had felt that it was coming for the last quarter of an hour,--andhe had felt, also, that he was quite unable to help himself. Hedid not believe that he should ever be reduced to marrying MissDemolines, but he did see plainly enough that he was getting intotrouble; and yet, for his life, he could not help himself. The mothwho flutters round the light knows that he is being burned, and yethe cannot fly away from it. When Madalina had begun to talk to himabout women in general, and then about herself, and had told him thatsuch a woman as herself,--even one so liable to the disturbance ofviolent emotions,--might yet be as true and honest as the sun, heknew that he ought to get up and make his escape. He did not exactlyknow how the catastrophe would come, but he was quite sure that if heremained there he would be called upon in some way for a declarationof his sentiments,--and that the call would be one which all his witwould not enable him to answer with any comfort. It was very welljesting about milestones, but every jest brought him nearer to theprecipice. He perceived that however ludicrous might be the imagewhich his words produced, she was clever enough in some way to turnthat image to her own purpose. He had called a woman a finger-post,and forthwith she had offered to come to him and be finger-post tohim for life! What was he to say to her? It was clear that he mustsay something. As at this moment she was sobbing violently, he couldnot pass the offer by as a joke. Women will say that his answershould have been very simple, and his escape very easy. But men willunderstand that it is not easy to reject even a Miss Demolines whenshe offers herself for matrimony. And, moreover,--as Johnny bethoughthimself at this crisis of his fate,--Lady Demolines was no doubt atthe other side of the drawing-room door, ready to stop him, shouldhe attempt to run away. In the meantime the sobs on the sofa becameviolent, and still more violent. He had not even yet made up hismind what to do, when Madalina, springing to her feet, stood beforehim, with her curls wildly waving and her arms extended. "Let it beas though it were unsaid," she exclaimed. John Eames had not theslightest objection but, nevertheless, there was a difficulty evenin this. Were he simply to assent to this latter proposition, itcould not be but that the feminine nature of Miss Demolines would beoutraged by so uncomplimentary an acquiescence. He felt that he oughtat least to hesitate a little,--to make some pretence at closing uponthe rich offer that had been made to him; only that were he to showany such pretence the rich offer would, no doubt, be repeated. HisMadalina had twitted him in the earlier part of their interview withknowing nothing of the nature of women. He did know enough to feelassured that any false step on his part now would lead him into veryserious difficulties. "Let it be as though it were unsaid! Why, oh,why, have I betrayed myself?" exclaimed Madalina.

  John now had risen from his chair, and coming up to her took her bythe arm and spoke a word. "Compose yourself," he said. He spoke inhis most affectionate voice, and he stood very close to her.

  "How easy it is to bid me do that," said Madalina. "Tell the sea tocompose itself when it rages!"

  "Madalina!" said he.

  "Well,--what of Madalina? Madalina has lost her own respect,--forever."

  "Do not say that."

  "Oh, John,--why did you ever come here? Why? Why did we meet atthat fatal woman's house? Or, meeting so, why did we not part asstrangers? Sir, why have you come here to my mother's house day afterday, evening after evening, if--. Oh, heavens, what am I saying? Iwonder whether you will scorn me always?"

  "I will never scorn you."

  "And you will pardon me?"

  "Madalina, there is nothing to pardon."

  "And--you will love me?" Then, without waiting for any moreencouraging reply,--unable, probably, to wait a moment longer, shesunk upon his bosom. He caught her, of course,--and at that momentthe drawing-room door was opened, and Lady Demolines entered thechamber. John Eames detected at a glance the skirt of the old whitedressing gown which he had seen whisking away on the occasion of hislast visit at Porchester Terrace. But on the present occasion LadyDemolines wore over it a short red opera cloak, and the cap on herhead was ornamented with coloured ribbons. "What is this," she said,"and why am I thus disturbed?" Madalina lay motionless in Johnny'sarms, while the old woman glowered at him from under the colouredribbons. "Mr. Eames, what is it that I behold?" she said.

  "What is it that
I behold?"]

  "Your daughter, madam, seems to be a little unwell," said Johnny.Madalina kept her feet firm upon the ground, but did not for a momentlose her purchase against Johnny's waistcoat. Her respirations camevery strong, but they came a good deal stronger when he mentioned thefact that she was not so well as she might be.

  "Unwell!" said Lady Demolines. And John was stricken at the momentwith a conviction that her ladyship must have passed the early yearsof her life upon the stage. "You would trifle with me, sir. Bewarethat you do not trifle with her,--with Madalina!"

  "My mother," said Madalina; but still she did not give up herpurchase, and the voice seemed to come half from her and half fromJohnny. "Come to me, my mother." Then Lady Demolines hastened to herdaughter, and Madalina between them was gradually laid at her lengthupon the sofa. The work of laying her out, however, was left almostentirely to the stronger arm of Mr. John Eames. "Thanks, mother,"said Madalina; but she had not as yet opened her eyes, even for aninstant. "Perhaps I had better go now," said Johnny. The old womanlooked at him with eyes which asked him whether "he didn't wish hemight get it" as plainly as though the words had been pronounced. "Ofcourse I'll wait if I can be of any service," said Johnny.

  "I must know more of this, sir, before you leave the house," saidLady Demolines. He saw that between them both there might probablybe a very bad quarter of an hour in store for him; but he swore tohimself that no union of dragon and tigress should extract from hima word that could be taken as a promise of marriage.

  The old woman was now kneeling by the head of the sofa, and Johnnywas standing close by her side. Suddenly Madalina opened hereyes,--opened them very wide and gazed around her. Then slowly sheraised herself on the sofa, and turned her face first upon her motherand then upon Johnny. "You here, mamma!" she said.

  "Dearest one, I am near you. Be not afraid," said her ladyship.

  "Afraid! Why should I be afraid? John! My own John! Mamma, he is myown." And she put out her arms to him, as though calling to him tocome to her. Things were now very bad with John Eames,--so bad thathe would have given a considerable lump out of Lord De Guest's legacyto be able to escape at once into the street. The power of a woman,when she chooses to use it recklessly, is, for the moment, almostunbounded.

  "I hope you find yourself a little better," said John, struggling tospeak, as though he were not utterly crushed by the occasion.

  Lady Demolines slowly raised herself from her knees, helping herselfwith her hands against the shoulder of the sofa,--for though stillvery clever, she was old and stiff,--and then offered both her handsto Johnny. Johnny cautiously took one of them, finding himself unableto decline them both. "My son!" she exclaimed; and before he knewwhere he was the old woman had succeeded in kissing his nose and hiswhiskers. "My son!" she said again.

  Now the time had come for facing the dragon and the tigress in theirwrath. If they were to be faced at all, the time for facing them hadcertainly arrived. I fear that John's heart sank low in his bosomat that moment. "I don't quite understand," he said, almost in awhisper. Madalina put out one arm towards him, and the fingerstrembled. Her lips were opened, and the white row of interior ivorymight be seen plainly; but at the present conjuncture of affairsshe spoke not a word. She spoke not a word; but her arm remainedstretched out towards him, and her fingers did not cease to tremble.

  "You do not understand!" said Lady Demolines, drawing herself back,and looking, in her short open cloak, like a knight who has donnedhis cuirass, but has forgotten to put on his leg-gear. And she shookthe bright ribbons of her cap, as a knight in his wrath shakes thecrest of his helmet. "You do not understand, Mr. Eames! What is it,sir, that you do not understand?"

  "There is some misconception, I mean," said Johnny.

  "Mother!" said Madalina, turning her eyes from her recreant lover toher tender parent; trembling all over, but still keeping her handextended. "Mother!"

  "My darling! But leave him to me, dearest. Compose yourself."

  "'Twas the word that he said--this moment; before he pressed me tohis heart."

  "I thought you were fainting," said Johnny.

  "Sir!" And Lady Demolines, as she spoke, shook her crest, and glaredat him, and almost flew at him in her armour.

  "It may be that nature has given way with me, and that I have been ina dream," said Madalina.

  "That which mine eyes saw was no dream," said Lady Demolines. "Mr.Eames, I have given to you the sweetest name that can fall from anold woman's lips. I have called you my son."

  "Yes, you did, I know. But, as I said before, there is some mistake.I know how proud I ought to be, and how happy, and all that kind ofthing. But--" Then there came a screech from Madalina, which wouldhave awakened the dead, had there been any dead in that house. Thepage and the cook, however, took no notice of it, whether they wereawakened or not. And having screeched, Madalina stood erect upon thefloor, and she also glared upon her recreant lover. The dragon andthe tiger were there before him now, and he knew that it behoved himto look to himself. As he had a battle to fight, might it not be bestto put a bold face upon it? "The truth is," said he, "that I don'tunderstand this kind of thing at all."

  "Not understand it, sir?" said the dragon.

  "Leave him to me, mother," said the tigress, shaking her head again,but with a kind of shake differing from that which she had usedbefore. "This is my business, and I'll have it out for myself. If hethinks I'm going to put up with his nonsense he's mistaken. I've beenstraightforward and above board with you, Mr. Eames, and I expect tobe treated in the same way in return. Do you mean to tell my motherthat you deny that we are engaged?"

  "Well; yes; I do. I'm very sorry, you know, if I seem to beuncivil--"

  "It's because I've no brother," said the tigress. "He thinks thatI have no man near me to protect me. But he shall find that I canprotect myself. John Eames, why are you treating me like this?"

  "I shall consult my cousin the serjeant to-morrow," said the dragon."In the meantime he must remain in this house. I shall not allow thefront door to be unlocked for him."

  This, I think, was the bitterest moment of all to Johnny. To beconfined all night in Lady Demolines' drawing-room would, of itself,be an intolerable nuisance. And then the absurdity of the thing,and the story that would go abroad! And what should he say to thedragon's cousin the serjeant, if the serjeant should be brought uponthe field before he was able to escape from it? He did not know whata serjeant might not do to him in such circumstances. There was onething no serjeant should do, and no dragon! Between them all theyshould never force him to marry the tigress. At this moment Johnnyheard a tramp along the pavement, and he rushed to the window. Beforethe dragon or even the tigress could arrest him, he had thrown upthe sash, and had appealed in his difficulty to the guardian ofthe night. "I say, old fellow," said Johnny, "don't you stir fromthat till I tell you." The policeman turned his bull's-eye upon thewindow, and stood perfectly motionless. "Now, if you please, I'll saygood-night," said Johnny. But, as he spoke, he still held the openwindow in his hand.

  "What means this violence in my house?" said the dragon.

  "Mamma, you had better let him go," said the tigress. "We shall knowwhere to find him."

  "You will certainly be able to find me," said Johnny.

  "Go," said the dragon, shaking her crest,--shaking all her armour athim, "dastard, go!"

  "Policeman," shouted Johnny, while he still held the open window inhis hand, "mind you don't stir till I come out." The bull's-eye wasshifted a little, but the policeman spoke never a word.

  "I wish you good-night, Lady Demolines," said Johnny. "Good-night,Miss Demolines." Then he left the window and made a run for the door.But the dragon was there before him.

  "Let him go, mamma," said the tigress as she closed the window. "Weshall only have a rumpus."

  "That will be all," said Johnny. "There isn't the slightest use inyour trying to keep me here."

  "And are we never to see you again?" said the tigress, almostlanguishing again wit
h one eye.

  "Well; no. What would be the use? No man likes to be shut in, youknow."

  "Go then," said the tigress; "but if you think that this is to be theend of it, you'll find yourself wonderfully mistaken. You poor false,drivelling creature! Lily Dale won't touch you with a pair of tongs.It's no use your going to her."

  "Go away, sir, this moment, and don't contaminate my room an instantlonger by your presence," said the dragon, who had observed throughthe window that the bull's-eye was still in full force before thehouse. Then John Eames withdrew, and descending into the hall madehis way in the dark to the front door. For aught he knew there mightstill be treachery in regard to the lock; but his heart was comfortedas he heard the footfall of the policeman on the door-step. With muchfumbling he succeeded at last in turning the key and drawing thebolt, and then he found himself at liberty in the street. Before heeven spoke a word to the policeman he went out into the road andlooked up at the window. He could just see the figure of the dragon'shelmet as she was closing the shutters. It was the last he ever sawof Lady Demolines or of her daughter.

  "What was it all about?" said the policeman.

  "I don't know that I can just tell you," said Johnny, searching inhis pocket-book for half a sovereign which he tendered to the man."There was a little difficulty, and I'm obliged to you for waiting."

  "There ain't nothing wrong?" said the man suspiciously, hesitatingfor a moment before he accepted the coin.

  "Nothing on earth. I'll wait with you, while you have the houseopened and inquire, if you wish it. The truth is somebody insiderefused to have the door opened, and I didn't want to stay there allnight."

  "They're a rummy couple, if what I hear is true."

  "They are a rummy couple," said Johnny.

  "I suppose it's all right," said the policeman, taking the money. Andthen John walked off home by himself, turning in his mind all thecircumstances of his connection with Miss Demolines. Taking his ownconduct as a whole, he was rather proud of it; but he acknowledged tohimself that it would be well that he should keep himself free fromthe society of Madalinas for the future.

 

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