The need would not have been so pressing, probably, had he not felt that Lily would be more comfortable with Mrs Thorne than in his lodgings in Sackville Street. Lily had at first declared that she would return with him, but everybody had protested against this. Emily Dunstable had protested against it very stoutly; Mrs Dale herself had protested against it by letter; and Mrs Thorne's protest had been quite imperious in its nature. 'Indeed,' my dear, you'll do nothing of the kind. I'm sure your mother wouldn't wish it. I look upon it as quite essential that you and Emily should learn to know each other.' 'But we do know each other; don't we, Emily?' said Lily. 'Not quite well yet,' said Emily. Then Lily had laughed, and so the matter was settled. And now, on this present occasion, Mr Dale was at Mrs Thorne's house for the last time. His conscience had been perplexed about Lily's horse, and if anything was to be said it must be said now. The subject was very disagreeable to him, and he was angry with Bernard because Bernard had declined to manage it for him after his own fashion. But he had told himself so often that anything was better than a pecuniary obligation, that he was determined to speak his mind to Mrs Thorne, and to beg her to allow him to have his way. So he waited till the Harold Smiths were gone, and Sir Raffle Buffle, and then, when Lily was apart with Emily--for Bernard Dale had left them--he found himself at last alone with Mrs Thorne.
'I can't be too much obliged to you,' he said, 'for your kindness to my girl.'
'Oh, laws, that's nothing,' said Mrs Thorne. 'We look on her as one of us now.'
'I'm sure she is grateful--very grateful; and so am I. She and Bernard have been brought up so much together that it is very desirable that she should not be unknown to Bernard's wife.'
'Exactly--that's just what I mean. Blood's thicker than water; isn't it? Emily's child, if she has one, will be Lily's cousin.'
'Her first-cousin once removed,' said the squire, who was accurate in these matters. Then he drew himself up in his seat and compressed his lips together, and prepared himself for his task. It was very disagreeable. Nothing, he thought, could be more disagreeable. 'I have a little thing to speak about,' he said at last, 'which I hope will not offend you.'
'About Lily?'
'Yes; about Lily.'
'I'm not very easily offended, and I don't know how I could possibly be offended about her.'
'I'm an old-fashioned man, Mrs Thorne, and don't know much about the ways of the world. I have always been down in the country, and maybe Ihave prejudices. You won't refuse to humour one of them, I hope?'
'You're beginning to frighten me, Mr Dale; what is it?'
'About Lily's horse.'
'Lily's horse! What about her horse? I hope he's not vicious?'
'She is riding every day with your niece,' said the squire, thinking it best to stick to his own point.
'It will do her all the good in the world,' said Mrs Thorne.
'Very likely. I don't doubt it. I do not in the least disapprove her riding. But--'
'But what, Mr Dale?'
'I should be much obliged if I might be allowed to pay the livery-stable keeper's bill.'
'Oh, laws a'mercy.'
'I daresay it may sound odd, but as I have a fancy about it, I'm sure you'll gratify me.'
'Of course I will. I'll remember it. I'll make it all right with Bernard. Bernard and I have no end of accounts--or shall have before long--and we'll make an item of it. Then you can arrange with Bernard afterwards.'
Mr Dale as he got up to go away felt that he was beaten, but he did not know how to carry the battle any further on that occasion. He could not take out his purse and put down the cost of the horse on the table. 'Iwill then speak to my nephew about it,' he said, very gravely, as he went away. And he did speak to his nephew about it, and even wrote to him more than once. But it was all to no purpose. Mr Potts could not be induced to give a separate bill, and--so said Bernard--swore at last that he would furnish no account to anybody for horses that went to Mrs Thorne's door except to Mrs Thorne herself.
That night Lily took leave of her uncle and remained at Mrs Thorne's house. As things were now arranged she would, no doubt, be in London when John Eames returned. If he should find her in town--and she told herself that is she was in town he certainly would find her--he would, doubtless, repeat to her the offer he had so often made before. She never ventured to tell herself that she doubted as to the answer to be made to him. The two letters were written in the book, and must remain there. But she felt that she would have had more courage for persistency down at Allington than she would be able to summon to her assistance up in London. She knew she would be weak, should she be found by him alone in Mrs Thorne's drawing-room. It would be better for her to make some excuse and go home. She was resolved that she would not become his wife.
She could not extricate herself from the dominion of a feeling which she believed to be love for another man. She had given a solemn promise both to her mother and to John Eames that she would not marry that other man;but in doing so she had made a solemn promise to herself that she would not marry John Eames. She had sworn it and would keep her oath. And yet she regretted it! In writing home to her mother the next day, she told Mrs Dale that all the world was speaking well of John Eames--that John had won for himself a reputation of his own, and was known far and wide to be a noble fellow. She could not keep herself from praising John Eames, though she knew that such praise might, and would, be used against her at some future time. 'Though I cannot love him I will give him his due,' she said to herself.
'I wish you would make up your mind to have an "it" for yourself,' Emily Dunstable said to her again that night; 'a nice "it", so that I could make a friend, perhaps a brother, of him.'
'I shall never have an "it" if I live to be a hundred,' said Lily Dale.