CHAPTER LIII.
ROTTEN ROW.
Lily had heard nothing as to the difficulty about her horse, andcould therefore enjoy her exercise without the drawback of feelingthat her uncle was subjected to an annoyance. She was in the habit ofgoing out every day with Bernard and Emily Dunstable, and their partywas generally joined by others who would meet them at Mrs. Thorne'shouse. For Mrs. Thorne was a very hospitable woman, and therewere many who liked well enough to go to her house. Late in theafternoon there would be a great congregation of horses before thedoor,--sometimes as many as a dozen; and then the cavalcade would gooff into the Park, and there it would become scattered. As neitherBernard nor Miss Dunstable were unconscionable lovers, Lily in thesescatterings did not often find herself neglected or lost. Her cousinwould generally remain with her, and as in those days she had no "it"of her own she was well pleased that he should do so.
But it so happened that on a certain afternoon she found herselfriding in Rotten Row alone with a certain stout gentleman whom sheconstantly met at Mrs. Thorne's house. His name was Onesiphorus Dunn,and he was usually called Siph by his intimate friends. It had seemedto Lily that everybody was an intimate friend of Mr. Dunn's, and shewas in daily fear lest she should make a mistake and call him Siphherself. Had she done so it would not have mattered in the least. Mr.Dunn, had he observed it at all, would neither have been flatterednor angry. A great many young ladies about London did call him Siph,and to him it was quite natural that they should do so. He wasan Irishman, living on the best of everything in the world, withapparently no fortune of his own, and certainly never earninganything. Everybody liked him, and it was admitted on all sides thatthere was no safer friend in the world, either for young ladies oryoung men, than Mr. Onesiphorus Dunn. He did not borrow money, and hedid not encroach. He did like being asked out to dinner, and he didthink that they to whom he gave the light of his countenance in townowed him the return of a week's run in the country. He neither shot,nor hunted nor fished, nor read, and yet he was never in the way inany house. He did play billiards, and whist, and croquet--very badly.He was a good judge of wine, and would occasionally condescend tolook after the bottling of it on behalf of some very intimate friend.He was a great friend of Mrs. Thorne's, with whom he always spent tendays in the autumn at Chaldicotes.
Bernard and Emily were not insatiable lovers, but, nevertheless,Mrs. Thorne had thought it proper to provide a fourth in theriding-parties, and had put Mr. Dunn upon this duty. "Don't botheryourself about it, Siph," she had said; "only if those lovers shouldgo off philandering out of sight, our little country lassie mightfind herself to be nowhere in the Park." Siph had promised to makehimself useful, and had done so. There had generally been so large anumber in their party that the work imposed on Mr. Dunn had been verylight. Lily had never found out that he had been especially consignedto her as her own cavalier, but had seen quite enough of him to beaware that he was a pleasant companion. To her, thinking, as she everwas thinking, about Johnny Eames, Siph was much more agreeable thanmight have been a younger man who would have endeavoured to make herthink about himself.
Thus when she found herself riding alone in Rotten Row with SiphDunn, she was neither disconcerted nor displeased. He had beentalking to her about Lord De Guest, whom he had known,--for Siph kneweverybody,--and Lily had begun to wonder whether he knew John Eames.She would have liked to hear the opinion of such a man about JohnEames. She was making up her mind that she would say something aboutthe Crawley matter,--not intending of course to mention John Eames'sname,--when suddenly her tongue was paralyzed and she could notspeak. At that moment they were standing near a corner, where aturning path made an angle in the iron rails, Mr. Dunn havingproposed that they should wait there for a few minutes before theyreturned home, as it was probable that Bernard and Miss Dunstablemight come up. They had been there for some five or ten minutes, andLily had asked her first question about the Crawleys,--inquiring ofMr. Dunn whether he had heard of a terrible accusation which hadbeen made against a clergyman in Barsetshire,--when on a sudden hertongue was paralyzed. As they were standing, Lily's horse was turnedtowards the diverging path, whereas Mr. Dunn was looking the otherway, towards Achilles and Apsley house. Mr. Dunn was nearer to therailings, but though they were thus looking different ways theywere so placed that each could see the face of the other. Then, ona sudden, coming slowly towards her along the diverging path andleaning on the arm of another man, she saw,--Adolphus Crosbie.
She had never seen him since a day on which she had parted from himwith many kisses,--with warm, pressing, eager kisses,--of whichshe had been nowhat ashamed. He had then been to her almost as herhusband. She had trusted him entirely, and had thrown herself intohis arms with a full reliance. There is often much of reticence onthe part of a woman towards a man to whom she is engaged, somethingalso of shamefacedness occasionally. There exists a shadow of doubt,at least of that hesitation which shows that in spite of vows thewoman knows that a change may come, and that provision for suchpossible steps backward should always be within her reach. But Lilyhad cast all such caution to the winds. She had given herself tothe man entirely, and had determined that she would sink or swim,stand or fall, live or die, by him and by his truth. He had been asfalse as hell. She had been in his arms, clinging to him, kissinghim, swearing that her only pleasure in the world was to be withhim,--with him her treasure, her promised husband; and within amonth, a week, he had been false to her. There had come upon hercrushing tidings, and she had for days wondered at herself that theyhad not killed her. But she had lived, and had forgiven him. She hadstill loved him, and had received new offers from him, which had beenanswered as the reader knows. But she had never seen him since theday on which she had parted from him at Allington, without a doubt asto his faith. Now he was before her, walking on the footpath, almostwithin reach of her whip.
He did not recognize her, but as he passed on he did recognize Mr.Onesiphorus Dunn, and stopped to speak to him. Or it might havebeen that Crosbie's friend Fowler Pratt stopped with this specialobject,--for Siph Dunn was an intimate friend of Fowler Pratt's.Crosbie and Siph were also acquainted, but in those days Crosbie didnot care much for stopping his friends in the Park or elsewhere. Hehad become moody and discontented, and was generally seen going aboutthe world alone. On this special occasion he was having a littlespecial conversation about money with his very old friend FowlerPratt.
"What, Siph, is this you? You're always on horseback now," saidFowler Pratt.
"Well, yes; I have gone in a good deal for cavalry work this lastmonth. I've been lucky enough to have a young lady to ride with me."This he said in a whisper, which the distance of Lily justified. "Howd'ye do, Crosbie? One doesn't often see you on horseback, or on footeither."
"I've something to do besides going to look or to be looked at,"said Crosbie. Then he raised his eyes and saw Lily's side-face, andrecognized her. Had he seen her before he had been stopped on his wayI think he would have passed on, endeavouring to escape observation.But as it was, his feet had been arrested before he knew of her closevicinity, and now it would seem that he was afraid of her, and wasflying from her, were he at once to walk off, leaving his friendbehind him. And he knew that she had seen him, and had recognizedhim, and was now suffering from his presence. He could not butperceive that it was so from the fixedness of her face, and from theconstrained manner in which she gazed before her. His friend FowlerPratt had never seen Miss Dale, though he knew very much of herhistory. Siph Dunn knew nothing of the history of Crosbie and hislove, and was unaware that he and Lily had ever seen each other.There was thus no help near her to extricate her from her difficulty.
"When a man has any work to do in the world," said Siph, "he alwaysboasts of it to his acquaintance, and curses his luck to himself. Ihave nothing to do and can go about to see and to be seen;--and Imust own that I like it."
"Especially the being seen,--eh, Siph?" said Fowler Pratt. "I alsohave nothing on earth to do, and I come here every day because it i
sas easy to do that as to go anywhere else."
Crosbie was still looking at Lily. He could not help himself. Hecould not take his eyes from off her. He could see that she was aspretty as ever, that she was but very little altered. She was, intruth, somewhat stouter than in the old days, but of that he took nospecial notice. Should he speak to her? Should he try to catch hereye, and then raise his hat? Should he go up to her horse's headboldly, and ask her to let bygones be bygones? He had an idea that ofall courses which he could pursue that was the one which she wouldapprove the best,--which would be most efficacious for him, if withher anything from him might have any efficacy. But he could not doit. He did not know what words he might best use. Would it become himhumbly to sue to her for pardon? Or should he strive to express hisunaltered love by some tone of his voice? Or should he simply askher after her health? He made one step towards her, and he saw thatthe face became more rigid and more fixed than before, and then hedesisted. He told himself that he was simply hateful to her. Hethought that he could perceive that there was no tenderness mixedwith her unabated anger.
At this moment Bernard Dale and Emily came close upon him, andBernard saw him at once. It was through Bernard that Lily and Crosbiehad come to know each other. He and Bernard Dale had been fastfriends in old times, and had, of course, been bitter enemies sincethe day of Crosbie's treachery. They had never spoken since, thoughthey had often seen each other, and Dale was not at all disposed tospeak to him now. The moment that he recognized Crosbie he lookedacross to his cousin. For an instant, an idea had flashed acrosshim that he was there by her permission,--with her assent; but itrequired no second glance to show him that this was not the case."Dunn," he said, "I think we will ride on," and he put his horse intoa trot. Siph, whose ear was very accurate, and who knew at once thatsomething was wrong, trotted on with him, and Lily, of course, wasnot left behind. "Is there anything the matter?" said Emily to herlover.
"Nothing specially the matter," he replied; "but you were standing incompany with the greatest blackguard that ever lived, and I thoughtwe had better change our ground."
"Bernard!" said Lily, flashing on him with all the fire which hereyes could command. Then she remembered that she could not reprimandhim for the offence of such abuse in such a company; so she reined inher horse and fell a-weeping.
Siph Dunn, with his wicked cleverness, knew the whole story at once,remembering that he had once heard something of Crosbie havingbehaved very ill to some one before he married Lady Alexandrina DeCourcy. He stopped his horse also, falling a little behind Lily,so that he might not be supposed to have seen her tears, and beganto hum a tune. Emily also, though not wickedly clever, understoodsomething of it. "If Bernard says anything to make you angry, I willscold him," she said. Then the two girls rode on together in front,while Bernard fell back with Siph Dunn.
"Pratt," said Crosbie, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder assoon as the party had ridden out of hearing, "do you see that girlthere in the dark blue habit?"
"What, the one nearest to the path?"
"Yes; the one nearest to the path. That is Lily Dale."
"Lily Dale!" said Fowler Pratt.
"Yes; that is Lily Dale."
"Did you speak to her?" Pratt asked.
"No; she gave me no chance. She was there but a moment. But it washerself. It seems so odd to me that I should have been thus so nearher again." If there was any man to whom Crosbie could have spokenfreely about Lily Dale it was this man, Fowler Pratt. Pratt was theoldest friend he had in the world, and it had happened that when hefirst woke to the misery that he had prepared for himself in throwingover Lily and betrothing himself to his late wife, Pratt had been thefirst person to whom he had communicated his sorrow. Not that he hadever been really open in his communications. It is not given to suchmen as Crosbie to speak openly of themselves to their friends. Nor,indeed, was Fowler Pratt one who was fond of listening to such tales.He had no such tales to tell of himself, and he thought that men andwomen should go through the world quietly, not subjecting themselvesor their acquaintances to anxieties and emotions from peculiarconduct. But he was conscientious, and courageous also as well asprudent, and he had dared to tell Crosbie that he was behaving verybadly. He had spoken his mind plainly, and had then given all theassistance in his power.
He paused a moment before he replied, weighing, like a prudent man,the force of the words he was about to utter. "It is much better asit is," he said. "It is much better that you should be as strangersfor the future."
"I do not see that at all," said Crosbie. They were both leaning onthe rails, and so they remained for the next twenty minutes. "I donot see that at all."
"I feel sure of it. What could come of any renewed intercourse,--evenif she would allow it?"
"I might make her my wife."
"And do you think that you would be happy with her, or she with you,after what has passed?"
"I do think so."
"I do not. It might be possible that she should bring herselfto marry you. Women delight to forgive injuries. They like theexcitement of generosity. But she could never forget that you had hada former wife, or the circumstances under which you were married. Andas for yourself, you would regret it after the first month. How couldyou ever speak to her of your love without speaking also of yourshame? If a man does marry he should at least be able to hold up hishead before his wife."
This was very severe, but Crosbie showed no anger. "I think I shoulddo so," he said,--"after a while."
"And then, about money? Of course you would have to tell hereverything."
"Everything--of course."
"It is like enough that she might not regard that,--except that shewould feel that if you could not afford to marry her when you wereunembarrassed, you can hardly afford to do so when you are over headand ears in debt."
"She has money now."
"After all that has come and gone you would hardly seek Lily Dalebecause you want to marry a fortune."
"You are too hard on me, Pratt. You know that my only reason forseeking her is that I love her."
"I do not mean to be hard. But I have a very strong opinion that thequarrels of lovers, when they are of so very serious a nature, area bad basis for the renewal of love. Come, let us go and dress fordinner. I am going to dine with Mrs. Thorne, the millionaire, whomarried a country doctor, and who used to be called Miss Dunstable."
"I never dine out anywhere now," said Crosbie. And then they walkedout of the Park together. Neither of them, of course, knew that LilyDale was staying at the house at which Fowler Pratt was going todine.
Lily, as she rode home, did not speak a word. She would have givenworlds to be able to talk, but she could not even make a beginning.She heard Bernard and Siph Dunn chatting behind her, and hoped thatthey would continue to do so till she was safe within the house. Theyall used her well, for no one tried to draw her into conversation.Once Emily said to her, "Shall we trot a little, Lily?" And then theyhad moved on quickly, and the misery was soon over. As soon as shewas upstairs in the house, she got Emily by herself, and explainedall the mystery in a word or two. "I fear I have made a fool ofmyself. That was the man to whom I was once engaged." "What, Mr.Crosbie?" said Emily, who had heard the whole story from Bernard."Yes, Mr. Crosbie; pray, do not say a word of it to anybody,--noteven to your aunt. I am better now, but I was such a fool. No, dear;I won't go into the drawing-room. I'll go upstairs, and come downready for dinner."
When she was alone she sat down in her habit, and declared to herselfthat she certainly would never become the wife of Mr. Crosbie. I donot know why she should make such a declaration. She had promisedher mother and John Eames that she would not do so, and that promisewould certainly have bound her without any further resolutions onher own part. But, to tell the truth, the vision of the man haddisenchanted her. When last she had seen him he had been as it were agod to her; and though, since that day, his conduct to her had beenas ungodlike as it well might be, still the memory of the outwardsigns of his d
ivinity had remained with her. It is difficult toexplain how it had come to pass that the glimpse which she had hadof him should have altered so much within her mind;--why she shouldso suddenly have come to regard him in an altered light. It was notsimply that he looked to be older, and because his face was careworn.It was not only that he had lost that look of an Apollo which Lilyhad once in her mirth attributed to him. I think it was chiefly thatshe herself was older, and could no longer see a god in such a man.She had never regarded John Eames as being gifted with divinity, andhad therefore always been making comparisons to his discredit. Anysuch comparison now would tend quite the other way. Neverthelessshe would adhere to the two letters in her book. Since she had seenMr. Crosbie she was altogether out of love with the prospect ofmatrimony.
She was in the room when Mr. Pratt was announced, and she at oncerecognized him as the man who had been with Crosbie. And when, someminutes afterwards, Siph Dunn came into the room, she could see thatin their greeting allusion was made to the scene in the Park. Butstill it was probable that this man would not recognize her, and, ifhe did so, what would it matter? There were twenty people to sit downto dinner, and the chances were that she would not be called upon toexchange a word with Mr. Pratt. She had now recovered herself, andcould speak freely to her friend Siph, and when Siph came and stoodnear her she thanked him graciously for his escort in the Park. "Ifit wasn't for you, Mr. Dunn, I really think I should not get anyriding at all. Bernard and Miss Dunstable have only one thing tothink about, and certainly I am not that one thing." She thought itprobable that if she could keep Siph close to her, Mrs. Thorne, whoalways managed those things herself, might apportion her out to beled to dinner by her good-natured friend. But the fates were averse.The time had now come, and Lily was waiting her turn. "Mr. FowlerPratt, let me introduce you to Miss Lily Dale," said Mrs. Thorne.Lily could perceive that Mr. Pratt was startled. The sign he gave wasthe least possible sign in the world; but still it sufficed for Lilyto perceive it. She put her hand upon his arm, and walked down withhim to the dining-room without giving him the slightest cause tosuppose that she knew who he was.
"I think I saw you in the Park riding?" he said.
"Yes, I was there; we go nearly every day."
"I never ride; I was walking."
"It seems to me that the people don't go there to walk, but to standstill," said Lily. "I cannot understand how so many people can bearto loiter about in that way--leaning on the rails and doing nothing."
"It is about as good as the riding, and costs less money. That is allthat can be said for it. Do you live chiefly in town?"
"O dear, no; I live altogether in the country. I'm only up herebecause a cousin is going to be married."
"Captain Dale you mean--to Miss Dunstable?" said Fowler Pratt.
"When they have been joined together in holy matrimony, I shall godown to the country, and never, I suppose, come up to London again."
"You do not like London?"
"Not as a residence, I think," said Lily. "But of course one'slikings and dislikings on such a matter depend on circumstances. Ilive with my mother, and all my relatives live near us. Of course Ilike the country best, because they are there."
"Young ladies so often have a different way of looking at thissubject. I shouldn't wonder if Miss Dunstable's views about it werealtogether of another sort. Young ladies generally expect to be takenaway from their fathers and mothers, and uncles and aunts."
"But you see I expect to be left with mine," said Lily. After thatshe turned as much away from Mr. Fowler Pratt as she could, havingtaken an aversion to him. What business had he to talk to her aboutbeing taken away from her uncles and aunts? She had seen him with Mr.Crosbie, and it might be possible that they were intimate friends.It might be that Mr. Pratt was asking questions in Mr. Crosbie'sinterest. Let that be as it might, she would answer no more questionsfrom him further than ordinary good breeding should require of her.
"She is a nice girl, certainly," said Fowler Pratt to himself, ashe walked home, "and I have no doubt would make a good, ordinary,everyday wife. But she is not such a paragon that a man shouldcondescend to grovel in the dirt for her."
That night Lily told Emily Dunstable the whole of Mr. Crosbie'shistory as far as she knew it, and also explained her new aversion toMr. Fowler Pratt. "They are very great friends," said Emily. "Bernardhas told me so; and you may be sure that Mr. Pratt knew the wholehistory before he came here. I am so sorry that my aunt asked him."
"It does not signify in the least," said Lily. "Even if I were tomeet Mr. Crosbie I don't think I should make such a fool of myselfagain. As it is, I can only hope he did not see it."
"I am sure he did not."
Then there was a pause, during which Lily sat with her face restingon both her hands. "It is wonderful how much he is altered," she saidat last.
"Think how much he has suffered."
"I suppose I am altered as much, only I do not see it in myself."
"I don't know what you were, but I don't think you can have changedmuch. You no doubt have suffered too, but not as he has done."
"Oh, as for that, I have done very well. I think I'll go to bed now.The riding makes me so sleepy."