"Yes, I think that I must now appear on the scene myself, and see how
the land lies with my own eyes. I wonder whether young Derinzy has
been playing this recent game from forethought or by accident. Deuced
clever move of his if he intended it; but I rather think it was all a
chance; such knowledge of life does not come to one until after a great
deal of experience, and he is a mere boy as yet. I don't think much
of what my young friend just now said about the tradesman, artisan,
or whatever the fellow may happen to be, though she seemed to have a
notion that he would prove dangerous. However, it will all work out in
time, I suppose. I won't stop in town to-night, now there is nothing
to be done; the house in Hill Street is all upset, and I will go back
to my comfortable quarters at Harbledown, and give those acting people
the benefit of my society. John Orpington," he says, looking at himself
in the glass over the mantelpiece, "you have come to a time of life
when rest is absolutely necessary for you, and you have got too much
good sense to ignore the fact; and as to Miss Fanny Stafford, well--_la
nuit forte conseil_--I will sleep upon all I have heard, and make up my
mind to-morrow morning." And so little excited or flurried is Colonel
Orpington by the events of the day, that when the down express is
stopped by signal at the little station, the guard, previously charged
to look out for him, finds the Colonel deep in slumber over his evening
newspaper.
CHAPTER XVII.
WELL MET.
In her light and volatile way, Miss Bella Merton had made what was by
no means a wrong estimate of Daisy's state of mind; more especially
right was she in her conjecture that Paul Derinzy's absence had had
the effect of showing to Daisy the true state of her feelings towards
him, and that she found her heart much more complicated than she
had believed. She had been accustomed to those walks in Kensington
Gardens, which had become of almost daily occurrence, and she missed
them dreadfully. She had been accustomed to the soft words, the
tender speeches, to the little pettings and fondlings and delicate
attentions which her lover was always paying to her, and in her
solitude she hungered after them. True, his letters were all that a
girl in her position could desire--full of the kindest phrases and most
affectionate reminiscences, full of delight at the past and of hope for
the future; only, after all, they were but letters, and Daisy wearied
of his absence and longed for his return.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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