The Small House at Allington | Page 8

on the philanthropic
tendencies of the age, and had read something here and there as he
formed his opinion. Perhaps he might have done better in the world had
he not been placed so early in life in that Whitehall public office. There
was that in him which might have earned better bread for him in an
open profession.
But in that matter of his bread the fate of Adolphus Crosbie had by this
time been decided for him, and he had reconciled himself to fate that
was now inexorable. Some very slight patrimony, a hundred a year or
so, had fallen to his share. Beyond that he had his salary from his office,
and nothing else; and on his income, thus made up, he had lived as a
bachelor in London, enjoying all that London could give him as a man
in moderately easy circumstances, and looking forward to no costly
luxuries--such as a wife, a house of his own, or a stable full of horses.
Those which he did enjoy of the good things of the world would, if
known to John Eames, have made him appear fabulously rich in the
eyes of that brother clerk. His lodgings in Mount Street were elegant in
their belongings. During three months of the season in London he
called himself the master of a very neat hack. He was always well
dressed, though never over-dressed. At his clubs he could live on equal
terms with men having ten times his income. He was not married. He
had acknowledged to himself that he could not marry without money;
and he would not marry for money. He had put aside from him, as not
within his reach, the comforts of marriage. But--We will not, however,
at the present moment inquire more curiously into the private life and
circumstances of our new friend Adolphus Crosbie.
After the sentence pronounced against him by Lilian, the two girls
remained silent for awhile. Bell was, perhaps, a little angry with her
sister. It was not often that she allowed herself to say much in praise of

any gentleman; and, now that she had spoken a word or two in favour
of Mr Crosbie, she felt herself to be rebuked by her sister for this
unwonted enthusiasm. Lily was at work on a drawing, and in a minute
or two had forgotten all about Mr Crosbie; but the injury remained on
Bell's mind and prompted her to go back to the subject." I don't like
those slang words, Lily."
"What slang words?"
"You know what you called Bernard's friend."
"Oh; a swell. I fancy I do like slang. I think it's awfully jolly to talk
about things being jolly. Only that I was afraid of your nerves I should
have called him stunning. It's so slow, you know, to use nothing but
words out of a dictionary."
"I don't think it's nice in talking of gentlemen."
"Isn't it? Well, I'd like to be nice--if I knew how." If she knew how!
There is no knowing how, for a girl, in that matter. If nature and her
mother have not done it for her, there is no hope for her on that head. I
think I may say that nature and her mother had been sufficiently
efficacious for Lilian Dale in this respect.
"Mr Crosbie is, at any rate, a gentleman, and knows how to make
himself pleasant. That was all that I meant. Mamma said a great deal
more about him than I did."
"Mr Crosbie is an Apollo; and I always look upon Apollo as the
greatest--you know what--that ever lived. I mustn't say the word,
because Apollo was a gentleman." At this moment, while the name of
the god was still on her lips, the high open window of the
drawing-room was darkened, and Bernard entered, followed by Mr
Crosbie.
"Who is talking about Apollo?" said Captain Dale.
The girls were both stricken dumb. How would it be with them if Mr

Crosbie had heard himself spoken of in those last words of poor Lily's?
This was the rashness of which Bell was ever accusing her sister, and
here was the result! But, in truth, Bernard had heard nothing more than
the name, and Mr Crosbie, who had been behind him, had heard
nothing.
"As sweet and musical as bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair,"
said Mr Crosbie, not meaning much by the quotation, but perceiving
that the two girls had been in some way put out and silenced.
"What very bad music it must have made," said Lily; "unless, indeed,
his hair was very different from ours."
"It was all sunbeams," suggested Bernard. But by that time Apollo had
served his turn, and the ladies welcomed their guests in the proper
form.
"Mamma is in the