第110章
- The Last Chronicle of Barset
- Anthony Trollope
- 1178字
- 2016-03-03 10:39:39
Major Grantly drove his gig into the yard of the 'Red Lion' at Allington, and from thence walked away at once to Mrs Dale's house. When he reached the village he had hardly made up his mind as the way in which he would begin his attack; but now, as he went down the street, he resolved that he would first ask for Mrs Dale. Most probably he would find himself in the present of Mrs Dale and her daughter, and of Grace also, at his first entrance; and if so, his position would be awkward enough. He almost regretted now that he had not written to Mrs Dale, and asked for an interview. His task would be very difficult if he should find all the ladies together. But he was strong enough in the feeling that when his purpose was told it would meet the approval at any rate of Mrs Dale; and he walked boldly on, and bravely knocked at the door of the Small House, as he had already learned that Mrs Dale's residence was called by the neighbourhood. Nobody was at home, the servant said; and then, when the visitor began to make further inquiry, the girl explained that the two young ladies had walked as far as Guestwick Cottage, and that Mrs Dale was at this moment at the Great House with the squire. She had gone across soon after the young ladies had started. The maid, however, was interrupted before she had finished telling all this to the major, by finding her mistress behind her in the passage. Mrs Dale had returned, and had entered the house from the lawn.
'I am here now, Jane,' said Mrs Dale, 'if the gentleman wishes to see me.'
Then the major announced himself. 'My name is Major Grantly,' said he;and he was blundering on with some words about his own intrusion, when Mrs Dale begged him to follow her into the drawing-room. He had muttered something to the effect that Mrs Dale would not know who he was; but Mrs Dale knew all about him, and had heard the whole of Grace's story from Lily. She and Lily had often discussed the question whether, under existing circumstances, Major Grantly should feel himself bound to offer his hand to Grace, and the mother and daughter had differed somewhat on the matter. Mrs Dale had held that he was not so bound, urging that the unfortunate position in which Mr Crawley was placed was so calamitous to all connected with him, as to justify any man, not absolutely engaged, in abandoning the thoughts of such a marriage. Mrs Dale had spoken of Major Grantly's father and mother and brother and sister, and had declared her opinion that they were entitled to consideration. But Lily had opposed this idea very stoutly, asserting that in an affair of love a man should think neither of father or brother of mother or sister. 'If he is worth anything,' Lily had said, 'he will come to her now--in her trouble; and will tell her that she at least has got a friend who will be true to her. If he does that, then I shall think that there is something of the poetry and nobleness of love left.' In answer to this Mrs Dale had replied that women had o right to expect from men such self-denying nobility as that. 'I don't expect it, mamma,' said Lily.
'And I am sure that Grace does not. Indeed I am quite sure that Grace does not expect even to see him ever again. She never says so, but Iknow that she has made up her mind about it. Still I think he ought to come.' 'It can hardly be that a man is bound to do a thing, the doing of which, as you confess, would be almost more than noble,' said Mrs Dale.
And so the matter had been discussed between them. But now, as it seemed to Mrs Dale, the man had come to do the noble thing. At any rate he was there in her drawing-room, and before either of them had sat down he had contrived to mention Grace. 'You may not probably have heard my name,' he said,' but I am acquainted with your friend, Grace Crawley.'
'I know your name very well, Major Grantly. My brother-in-law who lives down yonder, Mr Dale, knows your father very well--or he did some years ago. And I have heard him say that he remembers you.'
'I recollect. He used to be staying at Ullathorne. But that is a long time ago. Is he at home now?'
'Mr Dale is almost always at home. He very rarely goes away, and I am sure would be glad to see you.'
Then there was a little pause in the conversation. They had managed to seat themselves, and Mrs Dale had said enough to put her visitor fairly at his ease. If he had anything special to say to her, he must say it--any request or proposition to make as to Grace Crawley, he must make it. And he did make it at once. 'My object in coming to Allington,' he said, 'was to see Miss Crawley.'
'She and my daughter have taken a long walk to call on a friend, and Iam afraid they will stay for lunch; but they will certainly be home between three and four, if that is not too long for you to remain at Allington.'
'Oh, dear, no,' said he. 'It will not hurt me to wait.'
'It certainly will not hurt me, Major Grantly. Perhaps you will lunch with me?'
'I'll tell you what, Mrs Dale; if you'll permit me, I'll explain to you why I have come here. Indeed, I have intended to do so all through, and I can only ask you to keep my secret, if after all it should require to be kept.'
'I will certainly keep any secret that you may ask me to keep,' said Mrs Dale, taking off her bonnet.
'I hope there may be no need of one,' said Major Grantly. 'The truth is, Mrs Dale, that I have known Grace Crawley for some time --nearly for two years now, and--I may as well speak it out at once--I have made up my mind to ask her to be my wife. That is why I am here.' Considering the nature of the statement, which must have been embarrassing, I think that it was made with fluency and simplicity.
'Of course, Major Grantly, you know that I have no authority with our young friend,' said Mrs Dale. 'I mean that she is not connected with us by family ties. She has a father and mother, living, as I believe, in the same county as yourself.'
'I know that, Mrs Dale.'
'And you may, perhaps, understand that, as Miss Crawley is now staying with me, I owe it in a measure to her friends to ask you whether they are aware of your intention.'
'They are not aware of it.'