The Small House at Allington by Anthony Trollope (the kiss of deception read online txt) 📕

He could be affectionate and forbearing in his giving; but when asking, he could not be otherwise than stern. Indeed, he could not ask; he could only demand.

“We have done so much now,” Mrs. Dale began to plead.

“Well, well, well. I did not mean to speak about that. Things are unpacked easier than they are packed. But, however⁠—Never mind. Bell is to go with me this afternoon to Guestwick Manor. Let her be up here at two. Grimes can bring her box round, I suppose.”

“Oh, yes: of course.”

“And don’t be talking to her about money before she starts. I had rather you didn’t;⁠—you understand. But when you see Crofts, tell him to come to me. Indeed, he’d better come at once, if this thing is to go on quickly.”

It may easily be understood that Mrs. Dale would disobey the injunctions contained in the squire’s last words. It was quite out of the question that she should return to her daughters and not tell them the result of her morning’s interview with their uncle. A hundred a year in the doctor’s modest household would make all the difference between plenty and want, between modest plenty and endurable want. Of course she told them, giving Bell to understand that she must dissemble so far as to pretend ignorance of the affair.

“I shall thank him at once,” said Bell; “and tell him that I did not at all expect it, but am not too proud to accept it.”

“Pray don’t, my dear; not just now. I am breaking a sort of promise in telling you at all⁠—only I could not keep it to myself. And he has so many things to worry him! Though he says nothing about it now, he has half broken his heart about you and Bernard.” Then, too, Mrs. Dale told the girls what request the squire had just made, and the manner in which he had made it. “The tone of his voice as he spoke brought tears into my eyes. I almost wish we had not done anything.”

“But, mamma,” said Lily, “what difference can it make to him? You know that our presence near him was always a trouble to him. He never really wanted us. He liked to have Bell there when he thought that Bell would marry his pet.”

“Don’t be unkind, Lily.”

“I don’t mean to be unkind. Why shouldn’t Bernard be his pet? I love Bernard dearly, and always thought it the best point in uncle Christopher that he was so fond of him. I knew, you know, that it was no use. Of course I knew it, as I understood all about⁠—somebody else. But Bernard is his pet.”

“He’s fond of you all, in his own way,” said Mrs. Dale.

“But is he fond of you?⁠—that’s the question,” said Lily. “We could have forgiven him anything done to us, and have put up with any words he might have spoken to us, because he regards us as children. His giving a hundred a year to Bell won’t make you comfortable in this house if he still domineers over you. If a neighbour be neighbourly, near neighbourhood is very nice. But uncle Christopher has not been neighbourly. He has wanted to be more than an uncle to us, on condition that he might be less than a brother to you. Bell and I have always felt that his regard on such terms was not worth having.”

“I almost feel that we have been wrong,” said Mrs. Dale; “but in truth I never thought that the matter would be to him one of so much moment.”

When Bell had gone, Mrs. Dale and Lily were not disposed to continue with much energy the occupation on which they had all been employed for some days past. There had been life and excitement in the work when they had first commenced their packing, but now it was grown wearisome, dull, and distasteful. Indeed so much of it was done that but little was left to employ them, except those final strappings and fastenings, and that last collection of odds and ends which could not be accomplished till they were absolutely on the point of starting. The squire had said that unpacking would be easier than packing, and Mrs. Dale, as she wandered about among the hampers and cases, began to consider whether the task of restoring all the things to their old places would be very disagreeable. She said nothing of this to Lily, and Lily herself, whatever might be her thoughts, made no such suggestion to her mother.

“I think Hopkins will miss us more than anyone else,” she said. “Hopkins will have no one to scold.”

Just at that moment Hopkins appeared at the parlour window, and signified his desire for a conference.

“You must come round,” said Lily. “It’s too cold for the window to be opened. I always like to get him into the house, because he feels himself a little abashed by the chairs and tables; or, perhaps, it is the carpet that is too much for him. Out on the gravel-walks he is such a terrible tyrant, and in the greenhouse he almost tramples upon one!”

Hopkins, when he did appear at the parlour door, seemed by his manner to justify Lily’s discretion. He was not at all masterful in his tone or bearing, and seemed to pay to the chairs and tables all the deference which they could have expected.

“So you be going in earnest, ma’am,” he said, looking down at Mrs. Dale’s feet.

As Mrs. Dale did not answer him at once, Lily spoke:⁠—“Yes, Hopkins, we are going in a very few days, now. We shall see you sometimes, I hope, over at Guestwick.”

“Humph!” said Hopkins. “So you be really going! I didn’t think it’d ever come to that, miss; I didn’t indeed⁠—and no more it oughtn’t; but of course it isn’t for me to speak.”

“People must change their residence sometimes, you know,” said Mrs. Dale, using the same argument by which Eames had endeavoured to excuse his departure to Mrs. Roper.

“Well, ma’am; it ain’t for me to say anything. But