'That's what I can't say. The dean has not had an opportunity of writing since he heard--even if he has yet heard--that Mr Crawley is to be tried. And then he and Mrs Arabin are not together. It's a long story, and I will not trouble you with it all; but at any rate I'm going off tomorrow. Lily, can I do anything for you in Florence?'
'In Florence?' said Lily; 'and are you really going to Florence? How Ienvy you.'
'And who pays your expenses,' said the squire.
'Well;--as to my expenses, they are to be paid by a person who won't raise any unpleasant questions about the amount.'
'I don't know what you mean,' said the squire.
'He means himself,' said Lily.
'I'm going to have a trip for my own fun,' said Johnny, 'and I shall pick up evidence on the road, as I'm going--that's all.'
Then Lily began to take an active part in the conversation, and a great deal was said about Mr Crawley, and about Grace, and Lily declared that she would be very anxious to hear any news which John Eames might be able to send. 'You know, John, how fond we are of your cousin Grace, at Allington? Are we not, uncle?'
'Yes, indeed,' said the squire. 'I thought her a very nice girl.'
'If you should be able to learn anything that may be of use, John, how happy you will be.'
'Yes, I shall,' said John.
'And I think it's so good of you to go, John. But it is just like you.
You were always generous.' Soon after that he got up and went. It was very clear to him that he would have no moment in which to say a word alone to Lily; and if he could find such a moment, what good would such a word do him? It was as yet but a few weeks since she had positively refused him. And he too remembered very well those two words which she had told him she would write in her book. As he had been coming to the house he had told himself that his coming would be--could be of no use.
And yet he was disappointed with the result of his visit, although she had spoken to him so sweetly.
'I suppose you'll be gone when I get back,' he said.
'We shall be here a month,' said the squire.
'I shall be back long before that, I hope,' said Johnny. 'Good-bye, sir. Good-bye, Dale. Good-bye, Lily.' And he put out his hand to her.
'Good-bye, John.' And then she added, almost in a whisper. 'I think you are very, very right to go.' How could he fail after that to hope as he walked home that she might still relent. And she also thought much of him, but her thoughts of him made her cling more firmly than ever to those two words. She could not bring herself to marry him; but, at least, she would not break his heart by becoming the wife of anyone else. Soon after this Bernard Dale went also. I am not sure that he had been well pleased at seeing John Eames become suddenly the hero of the hour. When a young man is going to perform so important an act as marriage he is apt to think that he ought to be the hero of the hour himself--at any rate among his own family.
Early on the next morning Lily was taken by her uncle to call upon Mrs Thorne, and to see Emily Dunstable. Bernard was to meet them there, but it had been arranged that they should reach the house first. 'There is nothing so absurd as these introductions,' Bernard had said. 'You go and look at her, and when you've had time to look at her, then I'll come!'
So the squire and Lily went off to look at Emily Dunstable.
'You don't mean to say that she lives in that house?' said Lily, when the cab was stopped before an enormous mansion in one of the most fashionable of the London squares.
'I believe she does,' said the squire.
'I never shall be able to speak to anybody living in such a house as that,' said Lily. 'A duke couldn't have anything grander.'
'Mrs Thorne is richer than half the dukes,' said the squire. Then the door was opened by a porter, and Lily found herself within the hall.
Everything was very great, and very magnificent, and, as she thought, very uncomfortable. Presently she heard a loud jovial voice on the stairs. 'Mr Dale, I'm delighted to see you. And this is your niece Lily.
Come up, my dear. There is a young woman upstairs dying to embrace you.
Never mind the umbrella. Put it down anywhere. I want to have a look at you, because Bernard swears that you're so pretty.' This was Mrs Thorne, once Miss Dunstable, the richest woman in England, and the aunt of Bernard's bride. The reader may perhaps remember the advice which she once gave to Major Grantly, and her enthusiasm on that occasion. 'There she is, Mr Dale; what do you think of her?' said Mrs Thorne as she opened the door of a small sitting-room wedged in between two large saloons, in which Emily Dunstable was sitting.
'Aunt Martha, how can you be so ridiculous?' said the young lady.
'I suppose it is ridiculous to ask the question to which one really wants to have an answer,' said Mrs Thorne. 'But Mr Dale has, in truth, come to inspect you, and to form an opinion; and, in honest truth, Ishall be very anxious to know what he thinks--though, of course, he won't tell me.'
The old man took the girl in his arms, and kissed her on both cheeks.
'I have no doubt you will find out what I think,' he said, 'though Ishould never tell you.'
'I generally do find out what people think,' she said. 'And so you're Lily Dale?'
'Yes, I'm Lily Dale.'
'I have so often heard of you, particularly of late; for you must know that a certain Major Grantly is a friend of mine. We must take care that that affair comes off all right, must we not?'
'I hope it will.' Then Lily turned to Emily Dunstable, and, taking her hand, went up and sat beside her, while Mrs Thorne and the squire talked of the coming marriage. 'How long have you been engaged?' said Lily.
'Really engaged about three weeks. I think it is not more than three weeks ago.'
'How very discreet Bernard has been. He never said a word about it while it was going on.'
'Men never do tell, I suppose,' said Emily Dunstable.
'Of course you love him dearly?' said Lily, not knowing what else to say.
'Of course I do.'
'And so do we. You know he's almost a brother to us; that is, to me and my sister. We never had a brother of our own.' And so the morning was passed till Lily was told by her uncle to come away, and was told also by Mrs Thorne that she was to dine with them in the square on that day.
'You must not be surprised that my husband is not here,' she said. 'He's a very odd sort of man, and he never comes to London if he can help it.'