CHAPTER XLVII. LONDON

It was late when I arrived in London and drove up to my father's house.

The circumstances under which I had left Ireland weighed more heavily on

me as I drew near home, and as I reflected over the questions I should

be asked and the explanations I should be expected to afford; and I half

dreaded lest my father should disapprove of my conduct before I had an

opportunity of showing him how little I had been to blame throughout.

The noise and din of the carriages, the oaths and exclamations of the

coachmen, and the uproar of the streets turned my attention from these

thoughts, and I asked what was the meaning of the crowd.

'A great ball, sir, at Lady Charlotte Hinton's.'

This was a surprise, and not of the pleasantest. I had wished that my

first meeting with my father at least should have been alone and in

quietness, where I could fairly have told him every important event of

my late life, and explained wherefore I so ardently desired immediate

employment on active service and a total change in that career which

weighed so heavily on my spirits. The carriage drew up at the instant,

and I found myself once more at home.

What a feeling does that simple word convey to his ears who knows the

real blessing of a home--that shelter from the world, its jealousies

and its envies, its turmoils and its disappointments; where, like some

landlocked bay, the still, calm waters sleep in silence, while the storm

and hurricane are roaring without; where glad faces and bright looks

abound; where each happiness is reflected back from every heart and ten

times multiplied, and every sorrow comes softened by consolation and

words of comfort! And how little like this is the abode of the great

leader of fashion; how many of the fairest gifts of humanity are turned

back by the glare of a hundred wax-lights, and the glitter of gilded

lackeys; and how few of the charities of life find entrance where the

splendour and luxury of voluptuous habits have stifled natural feeling,

and made even sympathy unfashionable!

It was not without difficulty I could persuade the servants, who were

all strangers to me, that the travel-stained, dusty individual before

them was the son of the celebrated and fashionable Lady Charlotte

Hinton, and at length reach my room to dress.

It was near midnight. The rooms were filled as I entered the

drawing-room. For a few moments I could not help feeling strongly the

full influence of the splendid scene before me. The undoubted evidences

of rank and wealth that meet the eye on every side in London life are

very striking. The splendour of the women's dress, their own beauty, a

certain air of haughty bearing peculiarly English, a kind of conscious

superiority to the rest of the world mark them; and in their easy,

unembarrassed, steady glance you read the proud spirit of Albion's

'haughty dames.' This alone was very different from the laughing spirit

of Erin's daughters, their _espiègle_ looks and smiling lips. The men,

too, were so dissimilar--their reserved and stately carriage, their low

voices, and deferential but composed manner contrasting strongly with

Irish volubility, quickness, and gesticulation. I stood unnoticed and

alone for some time, quietly observant of the scene before me; and as

I heard name after name announced, many of them the greatest and the

highest in the land, there was no semblance of excitement as they

entered, no looks of admiring wonder as they passed on and mingled

with the crowd. This showed me I was in a mighty city, where the chief

spirits that ruled the age moved daily before the public eye; and again

I thought of Dublin, where some third-rate notoriety would have been

hailed with almost acclamation, and lionised to the 'top of his bent.'

I could remember but few of those around, and even they had either

forgotten me altogether, or, having no recollection of my absence,

saluted me with the easy nonchalance of one who is seen every evening of

his life.

'How are you, Hinton?' said one, with something more of warmth than the

rest. 'I have not met you for some weeks past.'

'No,' said I, smiling. 'I have been nearly a year from home.'

'Ah, indeed! In Spain?'

'No, in Ireland.'

'In Ireland? How odd!'

'Who has been in Ireland?' said a low, plaintive voice. Turning round

as she spoke, my lady-mother stood before me. 'I should like to hear

something---- But, dear me, this must be John!' and she held out her

jewelled hand towards me.

'My dear mother, I am so happy to see you look so very well----'

'No, no, my dear,' said she, sighing, 'don't speak of that. When did

you arrive? I beg your Royal Highness's pardon, I hope you have not

forgotten your protege, my son.'

I bowed reverently as a large, full, handsome man, with bald head and a

most commanding expression, drew himself up before me.

'No, madam, I have not forgotten him, I assure you!' was the reply, as

he returned my salute with marked coldness, and passed on.

Before Lady Charlotte could express her surprise at such an unlooked-for

mark of displeasure, my father, who had just heard of my arrival, came

up.

'Jack, my dear fellow, I am glad to see you. How large you have grown,

boy, and how brown!'

The warm welcome of his manly voice, the affectionate grasp of his

strong hand, rallied me at once, and I cared little for the looks of

king or kaiser at that moment. He drew his arm within mine, and led me

through the rooms to a small boudoir, where a party at cards were the

only occupants.

'Here we shall be tolerably alone for a little while, at least,' said

he; 'and now, my lad, tell me everything about you.*

In less than half an hour I ran over the principal events of my life in

Ireland, omitting only those in which Miss Bellew bore a part. On this

account my rupture with Lord de Vere was only imperfectly alluded to;

and I could perceive that my father's brow became contracted, and his

look assumed a severer expression at this part of my narrative.

'You have not been very explicit, Jack, about this business; and this it

is which I am really uneasy about. I have never known you do a mean or

a shabby thing; I will never suspect you of one. So, now, let me clearly

understand the ground of this quarrel.'

There was a tone of command in his voice as he said this which decided

me at once, and without further hesitation I resolved on laying

everything before him. Still, I knew not how to begin; the mention of

Louisa's name alone staggered me, and for a second or two I stammered

and looked confused.

Unlike his wonted manner, my father looked impatient, almost angry. At

last, when seeing that my agitation only increased upon me, and that my

difficulty grew each moment greater, he looked me sternly in the face,

and with a voice full of meaning, said--

'Tell me everything! I cannot bear to doubt you. Was this a play

transaction?'

'A play transaction! No, sir, nothing like it.'

'Was there not a bet--some disputed wager---mixed up in it?'

'Yes, there was a wager, sir; but----'

Before I could conclude, my father pressed his hand against his eyes,

and a faint sigh broke from him.

'But hear me out, sir. The wager was none of mine.' In a few moments I

ran over the whole circumstances of De Vere's bet, his conduct to Miss

Bellew, and my own subsequent proceedings; but when I came to the

mention of O'Grady's name, he stopped me suddenly, and said--

'Major O'Grady, however, did not approve of your conduct in the affair.'

'O'Grady! He was my friend all through it!'

My father remained silent for a few minutes, and then in a low voice

added--

'There has been misrepresentation here.'

The words were not well spoken when Lord Dudley de Vere, with my cousin

Lady Julia on his arm, came up. The easy nonchalance of his manner, the

tone of quiet indifference he assumed, were well known to me; but I

was in nowise prepared for the look of insufferable, patronising

impertinence he had now put on.

My cousin, more beautiful far than ever I had seen her, took off my

attention from him, however, and I turned with a feeling of half pride,

half wonder, to pay my respects to her. Dressed in the most perfect

taste of the fashion, her handsome features wore the assured and

tranquil expression which conscious beauty gives. And here let no

inexperienced observer rashly condemn the placid loveliness of the queen

of beauty, the sanctioned belle of fashionable life. It is, indeed,

very different from the artless loveliness of innocent girlhood; but its

claim is not less incontestable. The features, like the faculties, can

be cultivated; and when no unnatural effort suggests the expression, who

shall say that the mind habitually exercised in society of the highest

and most gifted circle will not impart a more elevated character to the

look than when the unobtrusive career of everyday life flows on calm and

unruffled, steeping the soul in a dreary monotony, and calling for no

effort save of the commonest kind.

Julia's was indeed splendid beauty. The lustrous brilliancy of her

dark-blue eyes was shaded by long, black lashes; the contour of her

cheeks was perfect; her full short lips were slightly, so slightly

curled, you knew not if it were no more smile than sarcasm; the low

tones of her voice were rich and musical, and her carriage and demeanour

possessed all the graceful elegance which is only met with in the

society of great cities. Her manner was most frank and cordial; she held

out her hand to me at once, and looked really glad to see me. After a

few brief words of recognition, she turned towards De Vere--

'I shall ask you to excuse me, my lord, this set. It is so long since I

have seen my cousin.'

He bowed negligently, muttered something carelessly about the next

waltz, and with a familiar nod to me, lounged away. O'Grady's caution

about this man's attentions to Julia at once came to my mind, and the

easy tone of his manner towards her alarmed me; but I had no time for

reflection, as she took my arm and sauntered down the room.

'And so, _mon cher_ cousin, you have been leading a very wild life of

it--fighting duels, riding steeplechases, breaking your own bones and

ladies' hearts, in a manner exceedingly Irish?' said Julia with a smile,

into which not a particle of her habitual raillery entered.

'From your letters I can learn, Julia, that a very strange account of my

doings must have reached my friends here. Except from yourself, I have

met with scarcely anything but cold looks since my arrival.'

'Oh, never mind that; people will talk, you know. For my part, Jack, I

never will believe you anything but what I have always known you. The

heaviest charge I have heard against you is that of trifling with a

poor girl's affections; and as I know that the people who spread these

rumours generally don't know at which side either the trifling or the

affection resides, why, I think little about it.'

'And has this been said of me?'

'To be sure it has, and ten times as much. As to your gambling sins,

there is no end to their enormity. A certain Mr. Rooney, I think the

name is, a noted play-man----'

'How absurd, Julia! Mr. Rooney never played in his life; nor have I,

except in the casual way every one does in a drawing-room.'

_'N'importe_--you are a lady-killer and a gambler. Now as to count

number three--for being a jockey.'

'My dear Julia, if you had seen my steeplechase you 'd acquit me of

that.'

'Indeed, I did hear,' said she roguishly, 'that you acquitted

yourself admirably; but still you won. And then we come to the great

offence--your quarrelsome habits. We heard, it is true, that you

behaved, as it is called, very honourably, etc; but really duelling is

so detestable----'

'Come, come, fair cousin, let us talk of something besides my

delinquencies. What do you think of my friend O'Grady?'

I said this suddenly, by way of reprisal; but to my utter discomfiture

she replied with perfect calmness--

'I rather was amused with him at first. He is very odd, very unlike

other people; but Lady Charlotte took him up so, and we had so much of

him here, I grew somewhat tired of him. He was, however, very fond of

you; and you know that made up for much with us all.'

There was a tone of sweetness and almost of deep interest in these last

few words that made my heart thrill, and unconsciously I pressed her arm

closer to my side, and felt the touch returned. Just at the instant my

father came forward accompanied by another, who I soon perceived was

the royal duke that had received me so coldly a few minutes before. His

frank, manly face was now all smiles, and his bright eye glanced from my

fair cousin to myself with a quick, meaning expression.

'Another time, General, will do quite as well, I say, Mr. Hinton, call

on me to-morrow morning about ten, will you? I have something to say to

you.'

I bowed deeply in reply, and he passed on.

'And let me see you after breakfast,' said Julia, in a half-whisper, as

she turned towards De Vere, who now came forward to claim her for the

waltz.

My father, too, mixed with the crowd, and I felt myself alone and a

stranger in what should have been my home. A kind of cold thrill came

over me as I thought how unlike was my welcome to what it would have

been in Ireland; for although I felt that in my father's manner towards

me there was no want of affection or kindness, yet somehow I missed the

exuberant warmth and ready cordiality I had latterly been used to, and

soon turned away, sad and disappointed, to seek my own room.

Jack Hinton: The Guardsman · 第 47 / 62 章