Eames had by no means done his work for that evening when he left Mr Dale and Lily at their lodgings. He had other business in hand to which he had promised to give attention, and another person to see who would welcome his coming quite as warmly, though by no means as pleasantly, as Lily Dale. It was then just nine o'clock, and as he had told Miss Demolines--Madalina we may as well call her now--that he would be in Porchester Terrace by nine at the latest, it was incumbent on him to make haste. He got into a cab, and bid the cabman drive hard, and lighting a cigar, began to inquire of himself over and over again whether it was well for him to hurry away from the presence of Lily Dale to that of Madalina Demolines. He felt that he was half-ashamed of what he was doing. Though he declared to himself over and over again that he never had said a word, and never intended to say a word, to Madalina, which all the world might not hear, yet he knew that he was doing amiss.
He was doing amiss, and half repented it, and he was half proud of it.
He was most anxious to be able to give himself credit for his constancy to Lily Dale; to be able to feel that he was steadfast in his passion;and yet he liked the idea of amusing himself with his Bayswater romance, as he would call it, and was not without something of conceit as he thought of the progress he had made in it. 'Love is one thing and amusement is another,' he said to himself as he puffed the cigar smoke out of his mouth; and in his heart he was proud of his own capacity for enjoyment. He thought it a fine thing, although at the same moment he knew it to be an evil thing--this hurrying away from the young lady whom he really loved to another as to whom he thought it very likely that he should be called upon to pretend to love her. And he sang a little song as he went, 'If she be not fair to me, what care I how fair she be.'
That was intended to apply to Lily, and was used as an excuse for his fickleness in going to Miss Demolines. And he was perhaps, too, a little conceited as to his mission to the Continent. Lily had told him that he was very glad that he was going; that she thought him very right to go.
The words had been very pleasant to his ears, and Lily had never looked prettier in his eyes than when she had spoken them. Johnny, therefore, was rather proud of himself as he sat in the cab smoking his cigar. He had, moreover, beaten his old enemy Sir Raffle Buffle in another contest, and he felt that the world was smiling on him;--that the world was smiling on him in spite of his cruel fate in the matter of his real lovesuit.
There was a mystery about the Bayswater romance which was not without its allurement, and a portion of the mystery was connected with Madalina's mother. Lady Demolines was very rarely seen, and John Eames could not quite understand what was the manner of life of that unfortunate lady. Her daughter usually spoke of her with affectionate regret as being unable to appear on that particular occasion on account of some passing malady. She was suffering from a nervous headache, or was afflicted with bronchitis, or had been touched with rheumatism, so that she was seldom on the scene when Johnny was passing his time at Porchester Terrace. And yet he heard of her dining out, and going to plays and operas; and when he did chance to see her, he found that she was a sprightly old woman enough. I will not venture to say that he much regretted the absence of Lady Demolines, or that he was keenly alive to the impropriety of being left alone with the gentle Madalina; but the customary absence of the elder lady was an incident in the romance which did not fail to strike him.
Madalina was alone when he was shown upon into the drawing-room on the evening of which we are speaking.
'Mr Eames,' she said, 'will you kindly look at that watch which is lying on the table.' She looked full at him with her great eyes wide open, and the tone of her voice was intended to show him that she was aggrieved.
'Yes, I see it,' said John, looking down on Miss Demolines' little gold Geneva watch, with which he had already made sufficient acquaintance to know that it was worth nothing. 'Shall I give it you?'
'No, Mr Eames; let it remain there, that it may remind me, if it does not remind you, by how long a time you have broken your word.'
'Upon my word I couldn't help it;--upon my honour I couldn't.'
'Upon your honour, Mr Eames?'
'I was obliged to go and see a friend who has just come to town from my part of the country.'
'That is the friend, I suppose, of whom I have heard from Maria.' It is to be feared that Conway Dalrymple had not been so guarded as he should have been in some of his conversations with Mrs Dobbs Broughton, and that a word or two had escaped from him as to the love of John Eames for Lily Dale.
'I don't know what you may have heard,' said Johnny, 'but I was obliged to see these people before I left town. There is going to be a marriage and all that sort of thing.'
'Who is going to be married?'
'One Captain Dale is going to be married to Miss Dunstable.'
'Oh! And as to one Miss Lily Dale--is she to be married to anybody?'
'Not that I have heard of,' said Johnny.
'She is not going to be the wife of one Mr John Eames?'
He did not wish to talk to Miss Demolines about Lily Dale. He did not choose to disown the imputation, or to acknowledge its truth.
'Silence gives consent,' she said. 'If it be so, I congratulate you. Ihave no doubt she is the most charming young woman. It is about seven years, I believe, since that little affair with Mr Crosbie, and therefore that, I suppose, may be considered as forgotten.'
'It is only three years,' said Johnny, angrily. 'Besides, I don't know what that has to do with it.'
'You need not be ashamed,' said Madalina. 'I have heard how well you behaved on that occasion. You were quite the preux chevalier; and if any gentleman ever deserved well of a lady you deserved well of her. Iwonder how Mr Crosbie felt when he met you the other day at Maria's. Ihad not heard anything about it then, or I should have been much more interested in watching your meeting.'
'I really can't say how he felt.'