The First Visit to the Guestwick Bridge
When John Eames arrived at Guestwick Manor, he was
first welcomed by Lady Julia. “My dear
Mr Eames,” she said, “I cannot tell you
how glad we are to see you.” After that
she always called him John, and treated him throughout
his visit with wonderful kindness. No doubt that
affair of the bull had in some measure produced this
feeling; no doubt, also, she was well disposed to
the man who she hoped might be accepted as a lover
by Lily Dale. But I am inclined to think that
the fact of his having beaten Crosbie had been the
most potential cause of this affection for our hero
on the part of Lady Julia. Ladies,—especially
discreet old ladies, such as Lady Julia De Guest,—are
bound to entertain pacific theories, and to condemn
all manner of violence. Lady Julia would have
blamed any one who might have advised Eames to commit
an assault upon Crosbie. But, nevertheless, deeds
of prowess are still dear to the female heart, and
a woman, be she ever so old and discreet, understands
and appreciates the summary justice which may be done
by means of a thrashing. Lady Julia, had she
been called upon to talk of it, would undoubtedly
have told Eames that he had committed a fault in striking
Mr Crosbie; but the deed had been done, and Lady Julia
became very fond of John Eames.
“Vickers shall show you your room, if you like
to go upstairs; but you’ll find my brother close
about the house if you choose to go out; I saw him
not half an hour since.” But John seemed
to be well satisfied to sit in his arm-chair over
the fire, and talk to his hostess; so neither of them
moved.
“And now that you’re a private secretary,
how do you like it?”
“I like the work well enough; only I don’t
like the man, Lady Julia. But I shouldn’t
say so, because he is such an intimate friend of your
brother’s.”
“An intimate friend of Theodore’s!—Sir
Raffle Buffle!” Lady Julia stiffened her back
and put on a serious face, not being exactly pleased
at being told that the Earl De Guest had any such intimate
friend.
“At any rate he tells me so about four times
a day, Lady Julia. And he particularly wants
to come down here next September.”
“Did he tell you that, too?”
“Indeed he did. You can’t believe
what a goose he is! Then his voice sounds like
a cracked bell; it’s the most disagreeable voice
you ever heard in your life. And one has always
to be on one’s guard lest he should make one
do something that is—is—that
isn’t quite the thing for a gentleman.
You understand;—what the messenger ought
to do.”
“You shouldn’t be too much afraid of your
own dignity.”
“No, I’m not. If Lord De Guest were
to ask me to fetch him his shoes, I’d run to
Guestwick and back for them and think nothing of it,—just
because he’s my friend. He’d have
a right to send me. But I’m not going to
do such things as that for Sir Raffle Buffle.”
