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Updated: June 13, 2025
And so Lily Dale has come to town." "Yes, Miss Dale is here with her uncle." "And you are going away to-morrow?" "Yes, and I am going away to-morrow." After that there was a pause in the conversation. Eames was sick of it, and was very anxious to change the conversation. Miss Demolines was sitting in the shadow, away from the light, with her face half hidden by her hands.
Were he simply to assent to this latter proposition, it could not be but that the feminine nature of Miss Demolines would be outraged by so uncomplimentary an acquiescence. He felt that he ought at least to hesitate a little, to make some pretence at closing upon the rich offer that had been made to him; only that were he to show any such pretence the rich offer would, no doubt, be repeated.
Tell him that he oughtn't to be called Conway? Because, after all, I suppose that's the worst of it. If you mean to say that Dalrymple is in love with Mrs Broughton, you never made a greater mistake in your life." "Oh, no; not in love. That would be terrible, you know." And Miss Demolines shook her head sadly. "But there may be so much mischief done without anything of that kind!
I'd ask Dalrymple, only I should spoil the mystery." Then he sat himself down, and began to think of Lily. There could be no treason to Lily in his amusing himself with the freaks of such a woman as Miss Demolines.
"You do not understand!" said Lady Demolines, drawing herself back, and looking, in her short open cloak, like a knight who has donned his cuirass, but has forgotten to put on his leg-gear. And she shook the bright ribbons of her cap, as a knight in his wrath shakes the crest of his helmet. "You do not understand, Mr Eames! What is it, sir, that you do not understand?"
"It was my destiny, I suppose; I daresay I was wrong. Other girls marry without violent love, and do very well afterwards. Look at Maria Clutterbuck." The name of Maria Clutterbuck had become odious to John Eames. As long as Miss Demolines would continue to talk about herself he could listen with some amount of gratification.
Before he got out of the house, which he did after a most affectionate farewell, Johnny felt himself compelled to promise that he would come to Miss Demolines again as soon as he got back to town; and as the door was closed behind him by the boy in buttons, he made up his mind that he certainly would call as soon as he returned to London. "It's as good as a play," he said to himself.
For some time Dalrymple did not observe this; but at last there was a little sound, even the ill-nature of Miss Demolines could hardly have called it a snore, and he became aware that for practical purposes he and Miss Van Siever were again alone together. "Clara," he said in a whisper. Mrs Broughton instantly aroused herself from her slumbers, and rubbed her eyes.
Lady Demolines slowly raised herself from her knees, helping herself with her hands against the shoulder of the sofa, for though still very clever, she was old and stiff, and then offered both her hands to Johnny. Johnny cautiously took one of them, finding himself unable to decline them both.
Nothing that I shall say to Miss Demolines will at all militate against my loyalty to Lily." "All right, old fellow; I didn't mean to put you on your purgation. I want you to look at that sketch. Do you know for whom it is intended?" Johnny took up a scrap of paper, and having scrutinised it for a minute or two declared that he had not the slightest idea who was represented.
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