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Updated: June 7, 2025
This is the price of tranquillity. For nothing can be gained without paying for it." It is by this wisdom that the man who happened to be Lalage's father was able to live without worrying himself into frequent fevers. The Archdeacon dined with us a short time before I left home and gave me a very fine valedictory address.
"You're to wait till the Archdeacon is actually bishop," said my mother, "and then he's to marry you." "Is that your plan or Lalage's?" "Lalage's, of course. I suppose it's yours too." "I'm sorry," I said, "to find that Lalage is so vindictive. I hoped that she'd have been more ready to forgive and forget." "I know what you're thinking about, because Lalage told me.
Even then, when my mother made her first smiling reference to the subject, I knew in my heart that there was no escape for me. Lalage's departure from our midst took place early in September and happened on a Wednesday, the day of the Drumbo Petty Sessions.
She's one of those people that you hate awfully and yet can't help loving though you are rather afraid of her. It's for her sake more than Lalage's that I'm asking you to interfere." "If I interfere at all it will be for the Archdeacon's sake. It's a pity to allow him to make a fool of himself." I do not know what line my mother actually took with the Archdeacon.
His action gave me the impression that the letter was highly infectious. "Look at that," he said. I looked and saw at once that it was in Lalage's handwriting. I was obliged to give up the idea of claiming it as mine. "Why don't you read it?" said Thormanby. "I didn't know you wanted me to. Do you?" "How the deuce are you to know what's in it if you don't read it?" "It's quite safe, I suppose?"
London, and the flat, and the grinding drudgery of Fleet Street, the miserable little creditors worrying at the door all these seemed now to belong to some former existence, to be part of the life of a different Jimmy Grierson. Vera knew nothing of such things; and, in her society, he himself managed to forget them. Lalage's letter was still unanswered.
Had he been stronger, he would probably have been suspicious and have made inquiries; but he was thoroughly run down and weary, and only too ready to be free from household worries. He had never kept house himself, knew but little of the cost of things, and had infinite faith in Lalage's capacity for management.
Lalage's letter continued: "There is nothing equal to a university life for broadening out the mind and enlarging one's horizon. Our object is to check by every legitimate means the spread of tommyrot in this country and the world generally. There is a great deal too much of it and something ought to be done to make people jolly well ashamed of themselves before it is too late.
I was therefore quite hopeful that our performances in Ballygore would escape notice. They did not. Some miserably efficient and enterprising reporter strayed into the town on the very evening of Lalage's meeting and wrote an account of her torchlight procession. The whole thing appeared next morning in the paper which he represented.
If Titherington had not interrupted me so often and if he had not displayed such complete self-confidence I should have told him what the A.S.P.L. really was and warned him to be very careful about enlisting Lalage's aid. But I was nettled by his manner and felt that it would be very good for him to find out his mistake for himself. I remained silent.
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