Anthony Trollope: Barchester Towers

45. CHAPTER XLV: THE STANHOPES AT HOME (continued)

'Well, sir! it won't be long,' said Bertie; 'for I shall be starved to death in about three months.'

'He must have marble to work with,' said Charlotte.

'I have plenty there in the studio to last me three months,' said Bertie. 'It will be no use attempting anything large in so limited a time; unless I do my own tombstone.'

Terms, however, were ultimately come to, somewhat more liberal than those proposed, and the doctor was induced to shake hands with his son, and bid him good-night. Dr Stanhope would not go up to tea, but had it brought to him in his study by his daughter.

But Bertie went up-stairs and spent a pleasant evening. He finished the Lookalofts, greatly to the delight of his sisters, though the manner of portraying their decollete dresses was not the most refined. Finding how matters were going, he by degrees allowed it to escape from him that he had not pressed his suit upon the widow in a very urgent way.

'I suppose, in point of fact, you never proposed at all?' said Charlotte.

'Oh, she understood that she might have me if she wished,' said he.

'And she didn't wish,' said the signora.

'You have thrown me over in the most shameful manner,' said Charlotte. 'I suppose you told her all about my little plan?'

'Well, it came out somehow; at least the most of it.'

'There's an end of that alliance,' said Charlotte; 'but it doesn't matter much. I suppose we shall all be back in Como soon.'

'I am sure I hope so,' said the signora; 'I'm sick of the sight of black coats. If that Mr Slope comes here any more, he'll be the death of me.'