At half-past seven he found himself at Sebright’s,
and there he dined. A man will dine, even though
his heart be breaking. Then he got into a cab,
and had himself taken home to Mount Street. During
his walk he had sworn to himself that he would not
go to bed that night till the letter was written and
posted. It was twelve before the first words
were marked on the paper, and yet he kept his oath.
Between two and three, in the cold moonlight, he crawled
out and deposited his letter in the nearest post-office.
John Eames Returns to Burton Crescent
John Eames and Crosbie returned to town on the same
day. It will be remembered how Eames had assisted
Lord De Guest in the matter of the bull, and how great
had been the earl’s gratitude on the occasion.
The memory of this, and the strong encouragement which
he received from his mother and sister for having
made such a friend by his gallantry, lent some slight
satisfaction to his last hours at home. But his
two misfortunes were too serious to allow of anything
like real happiness. He was leaving Lily behind
him, engaged to be married to a man whom he hated,
and he was returning to Burton Crescent, where he
would have to face Amelia Roper,—Amelia
either in her rage or in her love. The prospect
of Amelia in her rage was very terrible to him; but
his greatest fear was of Amelia in her love. He
had in his letter declined matrimony; but what if
she talked down all his objections, and carried him
off to church in spite of himself!
When he reached London and got into a cab with his
portmanteau, he could hardly fetch up courage to bid
the man drive him to Burton Crescent. “I
might as well go to an hotel for the night,”
he said to himself, “and then I can learn how
things are going on from Cradell at the office.”
Nevertheless, he did give the direction to Burton
Crescent, and when it was once given felt ashamed to
change it. But, as he was driven up to the well-known
door, his heart was so low within him that he might
almost be said to have lost it. When the cabman
demanded whether he should knock, he could not answer;
and when the maid-servant at the door greeted him,
he almost ran away.
“Who’s at home?” said he, asking
the question in a very low voice.
“There’s missus,” said the girl,
“and Miss Spruce, and Mrs Lupex. He’s
away somewhere, in his tantrums again; and there’s
Mr—”
“Is Miss Roper here?” he said, still whispering.
“Oh, yes! Miss Mealyer’s here,”
said the girl, speaking in a cruelly loud voice.
“She was in the dining-room just now, putting
out the table. Miss Mealyer!” And the girl,
as she called out the name, opened the dining-room
door. Johnny Eames felt that his knees were too
weak to support him.
