Mrs Dale depicted as very young, but point is more effective. She has given up a great deal to allow her daughters to live the lives of comfortable gentlewomen; see my Trollope on the Net, Chapter 6.
Exquisitely love depiction of two elegantly-dressed ladies, with long capes, holding parasols over their heads, fashionable hats, bell shaped skirts. They look over a fence into a field, itself an instance of the psychological picturesque as described by Wylie Sypher (see my bibliography of art books)
Millais depicts the men just before they go off to shoot; the animals are blamed for the uncomfortable state of mind produced by Crosbie's disappointment that Lily will not be inheriting a substantial sum of money from the Squire.
Millais spends time depicting the down-and-out quality of Mr. and Mrs. Lupex's clothing. Her clothes are once elegant, now shabby; his hair is awry. Cradell is given a far too sweet expression on a plump face.
This ought to be better known because it centers the reader's attention on John Eames in a reverie. Lord, thinking out the letter he must write to Amelia, and putting out of his mind Lily Dale. The Earl is made too much of a buffoon. Effective 1860s golden style background landscape.
Hall praises the drawing of Mr. Harding, but I think it is somewhat absurd. Millais has tried to convey Mr. Harding's humility as if it were a physical posture he presents to the world; the result is a simpering ludicrously small and thin old man who seems to be sneaking by those who stand firmly in front of the church porch.
This is a superb depiction of inside of a cathedral built in gothic style; two tiny figures seen talking, drawn with shadowy strokes. Suggests a moment of peace, of retreat in which Crosbie could have changed his mind and not gone to the castle where he would betray his better self as well as Lily.
The original pencil drawing shows Millais deeply engrossed in the hesitant yet intense emotion of the scene. It is of John Eames and Lily just at the moment he has learnt of Lily's engagement and cannot resist coming to tell her he loves her nonetheless. The depiction of Johnny just at this juncture (between Crosbie's adventures) brings home to the reader his centrality in the novel. Effective choice and depiction.
Perhaps it interests people as the first depiction of Plantagenet Palliser; he is a shy tall blond man; Lady Dumbello sits regally in a ostentatiously luxuriously sewn skirt; she has a big bosom, and it's lightly suggested her gown is low-cut. She looks out at the world with cold disdain.
While grim, hugely over-grown older women who looks as if she has just swallowed a lemon may seem absurd to modern viewer, women of Lady de Courcy's class prided themselves on their size; the small emasculated male is also not exactly a frightening bully of a male figure; however, the discontented realities of families invented to aggrandise the network are made clear.
An excellent one which really could be Johnny Eames or Adolphus Crosbie, but is probably Adolphus. Able drawing of young man in mid-twenties.
A remarkably good depiction of a group of men, one leaning on a mantelpiece, another sitting in a chair, a third standing with his hands slightly upraised, all elegantly dressed. Their expressions are banal, unexpressive in just the way life is, even when the most ultimately shattering experiences happen. The male figure by the mantelpiece is one of the truest figures in all Millais; it's not overdone. For once not theatrical. The somewhat debauched silent inured man.
This is a scene which recurs among the many illustrations to Trollope's novels (see above Orley Farm; in my judgement this is good: again the faces have vivid expressions without any exaggeration or theatricality. They are in a state of enduring life as it passes with some glasses of wine and a pretense of companionship to help them on. This depiction also helps to remove the novel from the sphere of sheer feminine romance (the chapter title is 'The wounded Fawn').
The depiction refers us back to Crosbie's distaste for his new life among the Gazebees, his shame both at his choice and (in a few minutes of text) at the beating he takes, partly because he was unprepared. A good drawing, mood right; it ought to be better known and placed where it belongs.
Cradell admiring Johnny after he has beaten Crosbie up at the station. The problem here the situation of the pair (outside), their clothes (super-elegant gentlemen), and the surrounding passersby have nothing to do with the conversation between the two clerks in the office.
An effective depiction of Squire Dale, small, his hands in his pockets, his face turned towards Mrs Dale whose face is bowed, troubled. This and the next picture turn the reader's pictorial attention towards the old man and older woman in the novel who are also important presences and have stories of their own too.
While again Mrs Dale seems too young and pretty, and her gesture and facial expression too theatrical, and Squire Dale more the elegant gentleman than Trollope's text warrants, the mood of the scene, the effective alive trouble on the detailed face of the man brings home to us the struggle in this novel has also been between these two people.
This one has been reprinted many times: it depicts the two de Courcy women giving the proprietor of a carpet stor a hard time; behind them Adolphus Crosbie looks at his watch. The irony is the two women haven't the money for this, yet the very purpose of their existences seems to be at the center of such scenes. The proprietor stands by, used to it. Millais has lavished detail on the shelves of merchandise, the clothing, the absorbed state of mind on the faces of the two women, one leaning down and the other drawing back in their states of (self-)worship.
The scene does not come off. The details of the room are well done; but Lily's face seems detached from her body (at an odd angle). Only the mother is seen vividly, from the back.
The irony of the Saint's Day being the focus of this chapter (and the one at Allington) is made clear in the full-page illustration to this number.
This one is often reprinted and discussed because it dramatises an important moment between Crosbie and Alexandria, that in which he cannot prevent himself from protesting how they are going to spend their Sunday -- visiting people he can't bear and she gets no visible enjoyment out of. Her face is overdone; she looks like she has a toothache on the side of her face. This is the life people live within the elegant buildings depicted at the opening of the chapter -- the true price for the place.
The point is to show us Lily making do, getting used to it. The chapter heading is 'Preparations for Going'. Far from taking satisfaction in Lily's tasks, we are to see the realities of the hard life she could have lived had her mother not given up what she has to live on Squire Dale's property; they are moving to a smaller place and lower position in society. The picture is a good one, well drawn, not overdone.
This scene between Lady Julia and Johnny Eames ends the book. Millais has done justice to the old woman's face: she is old, stiff, but beautifully concerned for the young man who looks down at the water. The piece is tastefully done, from the realistic everyday clothes to the bare spring landscape to the understated emotions of the figures.