Mrs Arabin was intimately acquainted with Mrs Thorne, and therefore there was nothing odd in her going to Mrs Thorne's house. Mrs Thorne was very glad to see her, and told her all the Barsetshire news--much more than Mrs Arabin would have learned in a week at the deanery; for Mrs Thorne had a marvellous gift of picking up news. She had already heard the whole story of Mr Soames's cheque, and expressed her conviction that the least that could be done in amends to Mr Crawley was to make him a bishop. 'And you see the palace is vacant,' said Mrs Thorne.
'The palace vacant!' said Mrs Arabin.
'It is just as good. Now that Mrs Proudie has gone, I don't suppose the bishop will account for much. I can assure you, Mrs Arabin, I felt that poor woman's death so much! She used to regard me as one of the staunchest of the Proudieites! She once whispered to me such a delightfully wicked story about the dean and the archdeacon. When I told her that they were my particular friends, she put on a look of horror.
But I don't think she believed me.' Then Emily Dunstable entered the room, and with her came Lily Dale. Mrs Arabin had never before seen Lily, and course they were introduced. 'I am sorry to say that Miss Dale is going home to Allington tomorrow,' said Emily. 'But she is coming to Chaldicotes in May,' said Mrs Thorne. 'Of course, Mrs Arabin, you know what gala doings we are going to have in May?' Then there were various civil little speeches made on each side, and Mrs Arabin expressed a wish that she might meet Miss Dale in Barsetshire. But all this did not bring her nearer to her object.
'I particularly wish to say a word to Miss Dale--here today, if she will allow me,' said Mrs Arabin.
'I'm sure she will--twenty words; won't you, Lily?' said Mrs Thorne, preparing to leave the room. Then Mrs Arabin apologised, and Mrs Thorne, bustling up, said that it did not signify, and Lily, remaining quite still on the sofa, wondered what it was all about--and in two minutes Lily and Mrs Arabin were alone together. Lily had just time to surmised that Mrs Arabin's visit must have some reference to Mr Crosbie--remembering that Crosbie had married his wife out of Barsetshire, and forgetting altogether that Mrs Arabin had been just brought home from Italy by John Eames.
'I am afraid, Miss Dale, you will think me very impertinent,' said Mrs Arabin.
'I am sure I shall not think that,' said Lily.
'I believe you knew, before Mr Eames started, that he was going to Italy to find me and my husband?' said Mrs Arabin. Then Lily put Mr Crosbie altogether out of her head, and became aware that he was not to be the subject of the coming conversation. She was almost sorry that it was not so. There was no doubt in her mind as to what she would have said to anyone who might have taken up Crosbie's cause. On that matter she could now have given a very decisive answer in a few words. But on that other matter she was much more in doubt. She remembered, however, every word of the note she had received from M D. She remembered also the words of John's note to that young woman. And her heart was still hard against him. 'Yes,' she said; 'Mr Eames came here one night and told us why he was going. I was very glad that he was going, because I thought it was right.'
'You know, of course, how successful he has been? It was I who gave the cheque to Mr Crawley.'
'So Mrs Thorne has heard. Dr Thorne has written to tell her the whole story.'
'And now I have come to look for Mr Eames's reward.'
'His reward, Mrs Arabin?'
'Yes; or rather to plead for him. You will not, I hope, be angry with him because he has told me much of his life story while we were travelling home together.'
'Oh, no,' said Lily, smiling. 'How could he have chosen a better friend in whom to trust?'
'He could certainly have chosen none who would take his part more sincerely. He is so good and amiable! He is so pleasant in his ways, and so fitted to make a woman happy! And then, Miss Dale, he is also so devoted!'
'He is an old friend, Mrs Arabin.'
'So he has told me.'
'And we all of us love him dearly. Mamma is very much attached to him.'
'Unless he flatters himself, there is no one belonging to you who would not wish that he should be nearer and dearer still.'
'It may be so. I do not say that it is not so. Mamma and my uncle are both fond of him.'
'And does that not go a long way?' said Mrs Arabin.
'It ought not to do so,' said Lily. 'It ought not to go any way at all.'
'Ought it not? It seems to me that I could never have brought myself to marry anyone whom my friends had not liked.'
'Ah! that is another thing.'
'But is it not a recommendation to a man that has been so successful with your friends as to make them all feel that you might trust yourself to him with perfect safety?' To this Lily made no answer, and Mrs Arabin went on to plead her friend's cause with all the eloquence she could use, insisting on all his virtues, his good temper, his kindness, his constancy--and not forgetting the fact that the world was inclined to use him very well. Still Lily made no answer. She had promised Mrs Arabin that she would not regard her interference as impertinent, and therefore she refrained from any word that might seem to show offence.
