第322章

He had felt that it was coming for the last quarter of an hour--and he had felt also, that he was quite unable to help himself. He did not believe that he should ever be reduced to marrying Miss Demolines, but he did see plainly enough that he was getting into trouble; and yet, for his life, he could not help himself. The moth who flutters round the light knows that he is being burned, and yet he cannot fly away from it.

When Madalina had begun to talk to him about woman in general, and then about herself, and had told him that such a woman as herself--even one so liable to the disturbance of violent emotions--might yet be as true and honest as the sun, he knew he ought to get up and make his escape.

He did not exactly know how the catastrophe would come, but he was quite sure that if he remained there he would be called in some way for a declaration of his sentiments--and that the call would be one which all his wit would not enable him to answer with any comfort. It was very well jesting about milestones, but every jest brought him nearer to the precipice. He perceived that however ludicrous might be the image which his words produced, she was clever enough in some way to turn that image to her own purpose. He had called a woman a finger-post, and forthwith she had offered to come to him and be a finger-post to him for life!

What was he to say to her? It was clear that he must say something. As at this moment she was sobbing violently, he could not pass the offer by as a joke. Women will say that his answer should have been very simple, and his escape very easy. But men will understand that it is not easy to reject even a Miss Demolines when she offers herself for matrimony. And, moreover--as Johnny bethought himself at this crisis of his fate--Lady Demolines was no doubt at the other side of the drawing-room door, ready to stop him, should he attempt to run away. In the meantime the sobs on the sofa became violent, and still more violent. He had not even yet made up his mind what to do, when Madalina, springing to her feet, stood before him, with her curls wildly waving and her arms extended. 'Let it be as though it were unsaid,' she exclaimed. John Eames had not the slightest objection; but, nevertheless, there was a difficulty even in this. Were he simply to assent to this latter proposition, it could not be 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. His Madalina had twitted him in the earlier part of their interview with knowing nothing of the nature of women. He did know enough to feel assured that any false step on his part now would lead him into very serious difficulties. 'Let it be as though it were unsaid! Why, oh why, have I betrayed myself?' exclaimed Madalina.

John had now risen from his chair, and coming up to her took her by the arm and spoke a word. 'Compose yourself,' he said. He spoke in his most affectionate voice, and he stood very close to her.

'How easy it is to bid me to do that,' said Madalina. 'Tell the sea to compose itself when it rages.'

'Madalina!' said he.

'Well--what of Madalina? Madalina has lost her own respect--for ever.'

'Do not say that.'

'Oh, John--why did you ever come here? Why? Why did we meet at that fatal woman's house? Or, meeting so, why did we not part as strangers?

Sir, why have you come here to my mother's house day after day, evening after evening, if--Oh, heavens, what am I saying? I wonder whether you will scorn me always?'

'I will never scorn you.'

'And you will pardon me?'

'There is nothing to pardon.'

'And--you will love me?' Then, without waiting for any more encouraging reply--unable, probably, to wait a moment longer, she sunk upon his bosom. He caught her of course--and at that moment the drawing-room door was opened, and Lady Demolines entered the chamber. John Eames detected a glance at the skirt of the old white dressing gown which he had seen whisking away on the occasion of his last visit to Porchester Terrace.

But on the present occasion Lady Demolines wore over it a short red opera cloak, and the cap on her head was ornamented with coloured ribbons. 'What is this,' she said, 'and why am I thus disturbed?'

Madalina lay motionless in Johnny's arms, while the old woman glowered at him from under the coloured ribbons. 'Mr Eames, what is that Ibehold?' she said.

'Your daughter, madam, seems to be a little unwell,' said Johnny.

Madalina kept her feet firm on the ground, but did not for a moment lose her purchase against Johnny's waistcoat. Her respiration came very strong, but they came a good deal stronger when he mentioned the fact that she was not so well as she might be.

'Unwell!' said Lady Demolines. And John was stricken at the moment with a conviction that her ladyship must have passed the early part of her life upon the stage. 'You would trifle with me, sir. Beware that you do not trifle with her--with Madalina.'

'My mother,' said Madalina; but still she did not give up her purchase, and the voice seemed to come half from her and half from Johnny. 'Come to me, my mother.' Then Lady Demolines hastened to her daughter, and Madalina between them was gradually laid at her length upon the sofa.

The work of laying her out, however, was left almost entirely to the strong arm of Mr John Eames. 'Thanks, mother,' said Madalina; but she had not as yet opened her eyes, even for an instant. 'Perhaps I had better go now,' said Johnny. The old woman looked at him with eyes which asked whether 'he didn't wish he might get it' as plainly as though the words had been pronounced. 'Of course I'll wait if I can be of any service,' said Johnny.