The Small House at Allington by Anthony Trollope (the kiss of deception read online txt) 📕
Description
The Small House at Allington was originally serialized in Cornhill Magazine between July and December 1862. It is the fifth book in Trollope’s Chronicles of Barsetshire series, being largely set in that fictious county of England. It includes a few of the characters from the earlier books, though largely in very minor roles. It could also be said to be the first of Trollope’s Palliser series, as it introduces Plantagenet Palliser as the heir to the Duke of Omnium.
The major story, however, relates to the inhabitants of the Small House at the manor of Allington. The Small House was once the Dower House of the estate (a household where the widowed mother of the squire might live, away from the Great House). Now living there, however, is Mary Dale, the widow of the squire’s brother, and her two daughters, Isabella (Bell) and Lilian (Lily). The main focus of the novel is on Lily Dale, who is courted by Adolphus Crosbie, a friend of the squire’s nephew. In a matter of a few weeks, Lily falls deeply in love with Crosbie, who quickly proposes to her and is accepted. A few weeks later, however, Crosbie is visiting Courcy Castle and decides an alliance with the Earl’s daughter Alexandrina would be far preferable from a social and monetary point of view. Without speaking to Lily, he abruptly changes his plans and asks Alexandrina to marry him instead. This act of betrayal is devastating to Lily and her family.
This novel, along with the other titles in the Barsetshire series, was turned into a radio play for Radio 4 in the United Kingdom in the late 1990s. The British Prime Minister John Major was recorded in the 1990s as saying that The Small House at Allington was his favorite book.
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- Author: Anthony Trollope
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“Well?” said the squire, who was looking very intently into her face.
“I was thinking,” said Mrs. Dale. “Do you say that she has already refused him?”
“I am afraid she has; but then you know—”
“It must of course be left for her to judge.”
“If you mean that she cannot be made to marry her cousin, of course we all know she can’t.”
“I mean rather more than that.”
“What do you mean, then?”
“That the matter must be left altogether to her own decision; that no persuasion must be used by you or me. If he can persuade her, indeed—”
“Yes, exactly. He must persuade her. I quite agree with you that he should have liberty to plead his own cause. But look you here, Mary;—she has always been a very good child to you—”
“Indeed she has.”
“And a word from you would go a long way with her—as it ought. If she knows that you would like her to marry her cousin, it will make her think it her duty—”
“Ah! but that is just what I cannot try to make her think.”
“Will you let me speak, Mary? You take me up and scold me before the words are half out of my mouth. Of course I know that in these days a young lady is not to be compelled into marrying anybody;—not but that, as far as I can see, they did better than they do now when they had not quite so much of their own way.”
“I never would take upon myself to ask a child to marry any man.”
“But you may explain to her that it is her duty to give such a proposal much thought before it is absolutely refused. A girl either is in love or she is not. If she is, she is ready to jump down a man’s throat; and that was the case with Lily.”
“She never thought of the man till he had proposed to her fully.”
“Well, never mind now. But if a girl is not in love, she thinks she is bound to swear and declare that she never will be so.”
“I don’t think Bell ever declared anything of the kind.”
“Yes, she did. She told Bernard that she didn’t love him and couldn’t love him—and, in fact, that she wouldn’t think anything more about it. Now, Mary, that’s what I call being headstrong and positive. I don’t want to drive her, and I don’t want you to drive her. But here is an arrangement which for her will be a very good one; you must admit that. We all know that she is on excellent terms with Bernard. It isn’t as though they had been falling out and hating each other all their lives. She told him that she was very fond of him, and talked nonsense about being his sister, and all that.”
“I don’t see that it was nonsense at all.”
“Yes, it was nonsense—on such an occasion. If a man asks a girl to marry him, he doesn’t want her to talk to him about being his sister. I think it is nonsense. If she would only consider about it properly she would soon learn to love him.”
“That lesson, if it be learned at all, must be learned without any tutor.”
“You won’t do anything to help me then?”
“I will, at any rate, do nothing to mar you. And, to tell the truth, I must think over the matter fully before I can decide what I had better say to Bell about it. From her not speaking to me—”
“I think she ought to have told you.”
“No, Mr. Dale. Had she accepted him, of course she would have told me. Had she thought of doing so she might probably have consulted me. But if she made up her mind that she must reject him—”
“She oughtn’t to have made up her mind.”
“But if she did, it seems natural to me that she should speak of it to no one. She might probably think that Bernard would be as well pleased that it should not be known.”
“Psha—known!—of course it will be known. As you want time to consider of it, I will say nothing more now. If she were my daughter, I should have no hesitation in telling her what I thought best for her welfare.”
“I have none; though I may have some in making up my mind as to what is best for her welfare. But, Mr. Dale, you may be sure of this; I will speak to her very earnestly of your kindness and love for her. And I wish you would believe that I feel your regard for her very strongly.”
In answer to this he merely shook his head, and hummed and hawed. “You would be glad to see them married, as regards yourself?” he asked.
“Certainly I would,” said Mrs. Dale. “I have always liked Bernard, and I believe my girl would be safe with him. But then, you see, it’s a question on which my own likings or dislikings should not have any bearing.”
And so they parted, the squire making his way back again through the drawing-room window. He was not above half pleased with his interview; but
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