ENEMY'S COUNTRY
Duly Patsy found the pleasure of her company requested at Raincy House,
a pleasant residence overlooking the Green Park, of which indeed, in the
previous reign, the few tall trees of its garden had formed part.
Occasionally, too, Louis continued to spend some time with Patsy, though
less than formerly, till the evening of the great ball at Hertford
House.
To this most fashionable event Patsy was going with the Lady Lucy for a
chaperon. She had never been to any of the Regency set functions, and
this was as much an affair of the Regent as if it had taken place at
Carlton House.
The Princess Elsa could not go, or at least would not. But Prince Eitel
had obtained an invitation through his embassy, and looked forward to a
long evening of dancing and sitting out with Patsy. He argued, quite
convincingly, that since Patsy was wholly unknown in Regency circles,
she might expect to be left a good deal to herself. But his conclusion
was wrong--first, because there were a good many, who, like Louis de
Raincy, had a foot in both camps, and for the others, especially such as
had heard much talk of Patsy, the charm of the unknown and unexpected
was strong.
Many were the young men, therefore, who forsook the trains of Mrs.
Fitzherbert, of Miss Golding, Lady Bunyip, the Countess of Carment, and
Mrs. Arlington herself to be introduced to Patsy. Louis himself was
compelled, much against his will, to make some of these presentations.
Captain Laurence, having incautiously admitted that he had some slight
acquaintance with the young beauty and her chaperon, found himself
victimized by half a regiment at a time. Patsy soon had partners in
plenty, and the Prince Eitel, who had looked forward to a pleasant
tête-à-tête, retired to a corner from which he gloomed more and more
murkily. He folded his arms and regarded the dancers with assassinating
glances.
But Patsy wrote a hieroglyphic of her own before half-a-dozen of the
dances, especially those just then coming into fashion, the waltz and
the Bohemian polka _à deux temps_. Then, having assured her position,
she began her struggle with the Arlington. She had never seen the lady
before, and even now she did not find her antipathetic. Mrs. Arlington
proved to be a big, blonde, jolly-looking woman, abundant in charms,
with the easiest manner and the most laughing eyes in the room. She
absolutely refused to let go her grip on youth. She must have been upon
the outer confines of forty, yet her tint was as fresh and clear as it
had been in her teens. Her hair was done in a froth of a myriad curls.
She had ballooned her bust and hour-glassed her waist according to the
fashion of the day. With her fan she beckoned this young man and that
other out of the ranks of those collected about the door, and he came
blushing, indeed, at the favour, and still more at its publicity, but
all the same half-running with eager delight. She danced frequently, but
did not seem to keep to any order or to have any written programme. She
simply told one to go and another to come according to the accredited
methods of the Roman centurion. Patsy noticed that Mrs. Arlington made
no attempts to attract the older men to her side. The Royal Dukes,
indeed, bowed over her hand, said a light word or two, and then moved
off with a slight smile and a certain air of satisfied complicity.
From all this it was evident that Mrs. Arlington was a woman of much
more discernment and courage than Patsy had been given to expect. There
was nothing of the jill-flirt about her. She treated the boys whom she
drew about her as if they had been her sons in need of scolding. She did
not seek to hide her age. Indeed, she rather insisted upon it, and Patsy
heard her bidding a young enthusiast to take himself off and do his duty
to his girl cousins.
"When you have danced with them all, and got your toes duly trodden
upon, come back and I shall see what I can do for you. Till then I have
nothing to say to you. Surely you don't want me to have all the mammas
hating me--there are some who look as if they could poniard me. Pray do
look at that poor dear Lady Lucy. She slops over the seat as if somebody
had opened the tap of a treacle-barrel and let her run out!"
But Mrs. Arlington, for all her loud good-nature, did not see without a
pang the desertion of so many of her usual followers, and after she had
seen Patsy beginning to dance, it suddenly became clear to her that she
must do something to vindicate her rights of property.
"Louis," she said, in that most commanding tone which admitted of no
reply, "go and speak to your mother. Then come straight back and dance
with me. You have not been near the Lady Lucy to-night. And that I can't
have!"
Louis obeyed, but as he made his way round the room he heard remarks
which set him wild with anger and jealousy.
"They say he is quite mad about her!" said one.
"Don't they make a handsome couple?" "They are dancing the Hungarian
Polka, the real one--it is easy to see that they have been practising it
often before." "They say he is never away from Hanover Lodge!" "Oh, the
Princess--why, of course she takes an interest in the girl
because"--(and the rest was whispered into a carefully inclined ear).
"Louis, Louis," said his mother, taking his hand and keeping it between
her two large soft palms, "do come and sit by us--don't go back to that
odious woman. I can't think what you see in her. Though, indeed, 'tis
easy to see what she has been by the horridly familiar way in which the
Dukes treat her. Oh, you will break my heart--besides you make your
grandfather so angry!"
For all the effect this homily of his mother produced on Louis Raincy,
it might just as well never have been spoken. His eyes watched the
smiling face of Mrs. Arlington as she whispered confidentially behind
her hand to young Lord Lochend, a smooth-faced puppy whom Louis would
like to have thrown out of the window. Then he gave his attention to the
two who were dancing. They appeared so wrapped up in each other. The
world was lost to them. Indeed, nearly every one else had stopped
dancing to watch them. No doubt about it--these two were engaged. Patsy
was soon to be a Princess. And with the curious mental blindness which
causes a group of people to receive a tale, repeated by a sufficient
number of mouths, as true, Patsy was considered already as good as
married to Prince Eitel of Altschloss. Certain it was that they danced
well together. Certain also that the two-time polka was the dance of the
young man's native land. He must, therefore, have spent his time in
teaching it to Patsy. The Princess, his neighbour, was of great
influence with him. So the conclusion was clear--Patsy and he were to be
married immediately, and in ten minutes from their first standing up, it
was known what were to be the royal presents on the occasion, and the
list of guests had been divulged, as well as the name of the officiating
bishop.
Louis heard all this, and his eyes wandered no more to Mrs. Arlington.
He thought of the seat in the niche of the beech-tree, the green and
secret nest under the wall overlooking the path along which they could
see Julian Wemyss pacing to and fro, his hands behind his back, and his
eyes on the trout darting and swirling in the pools. Once more he
scented the bog-myrtle and was the lad of the night rescue by the White
Loch. Again Patsy was his Patsy, and he felt the sting of her hand,
little and brown but very strong, on his smitten cheek. Ah, they were
good days, those--better than he had ever known since he came to London
and donned the uniform of the Blue Dragoons. What a fool he had been!
He did not go back to Mrs. Arlington, but with an eagerness on his face,
waited the moment when Patsy should be free. The dance ended. She was
coming smilingly back to Lady Lucy. He had nothing to do but to wait.
But the Prince Eitel! He bowed. The Prince Eitel bowed, still radiant
after the dance. He twirled his martial moustaches. He had heard from
the Princess and others what Patsy had said of Louis Raincy, and
considered himself quite at liberty to put on a conquering air which
made him particularly hateful to the officer of dragoons.
The Prince said a few words to Lady Lucy, bowed and went away. He had
asserted his first rights, and Patsy and he had covered themselves with
glory. Mrs. Fitzherbert herself had seen and envied. The Regent had seen
and been defied. Best of all, and what he knew would please the Princess
most, Lyonesse had seen. "Gad, how happy he would be to stab a rapier
through any one of these obese swine!" And Eitel of Altschloss stalked
away glancing about him arrogantly, eager and wishful that any one of
the Regency party should quarrel with him.
But only poor "Silly Billy" came lolloping up much like a pet rabbit,
his cravat undone and his blue ribbon of the Garter slipped from his
neck and hanging as low as his knee.
"Cousin," he said, laughing his innocent's giggle, "what do you think?
My brother Clarence says that you have been dancing with a mightily
pretty girl, but that Lyonesse led her a prettier dance than you! What
did he mean, eh, cousin?"
"Go to your brothers, Clarence and Lyonesse, and tell them from me that
they are damned, lying scoundrels, and that if they want a foot of steel
through them, they have only to say as much in my hearing. Now say it
over--don't forget."
The "natural" was delighted with his commission.
"No, Eitel, I shall tell them every word. I like you, Eitel. You never
call me 'Silly Billy' like the rest. If you _could_ put some more swears
in--I should like that still better!"
"I am sorry I cannot oblige," said Prince Eitel, "but the one there is,
will suffice if you shout it loud enough. Thank you, Duke! that will do
perfectly."
And the little man trotted off to deliver his message, jerking his arms
and cracking his fingers with a real delight. It was not often that he
got the chance of swearing at his brothers under the protection of
Prince Eitel of Altschloss.
Meanwhile Louis Raincy had not been misusing his time. He knew he had
come late in the day, and he was conscious of the queue of aspirants
forming behind him.
At first Patsy listened with indifference, her eyes on the other side of
the room and her chin in the air. She was so sorry, but she thought that
of course Louis had all his arrangements made long before. She had seen
him from the time they came in, yet while she was sitting beside his
mother, he had never seen fit to come near them!
Whereupon Louis explained. He had been busy--the onerous duties of an
attaché--and so forth.
Patsy kept him awhile on the tenterhooks. He went on to remind her of
the burn of the Glen-wood. He described their nests in the beech-butt
and under the shelter of the great march dyke. He would have spoken of
the race across the moors and the rescue at the White Gates, save that
by instinct he knew that her thoughts would at once be carried to Stair
Garland, the man who _was_ a man and as such had played the leading part
on these occasions. He hated even to see the Duke of Lyonesse limp and
to think that he had not even done _that_ himself!
"Well, the one after next!" said Patsy carelessly, after consulting the
list of dances for those she had marked with her own hieroglyphic.
"Meanwhile, stay here with Lady Lucy till I am ready. I am certainly not
going to seek you up and down the ball-room."
This she said because she noticed that the Arlington was beginning to
waft signals in the young man's direction with her fan. Therefore,
before she took her next partner's arm, she saw Louis sit down beside
his delighted mother, and talking to her in a manner so completely
absorbed that he never so much as raised his eyes.
Patsy proved perfectly entrancing when it came to be Louis's turn to
dance with her, but before the end of the music they dropped out, for
Patsy said, "Now we shall climb the bank till we find our nook!"
And taking the young man's hand they ran nimbly up the stairs till they
came to a dimly curtained recess which, if the truth must be told, Patsy
had just vacated.
"Oh," said Louis, delighted, "you are as clever at finding hidie-holes
in Hertford House as you used to be in the brows of the Abbey Water!"
"Draw the curtains closer," said Patsy, "or we shall have your Mrs.
Arlington spying us out and carrying you off with a single wave of her
fan. She reminds me of Circe--a fat, curly-wurly Circe--like that
picture Uncle Ju brought back from Italy. _Why_ do you run after her,
Louis? I told you to go and make love to as many pretty girls as would
let you, and here you go and break the tables of affinity by making love
to your grandmother!"
At this Louis was vaguely offended--or perhaps rather hurt than
offended. He had not come there to be lectured--at least not about Mrs.
Arlington. But Patsy had the good sense to administer the cooling bitter
medicine immediately after the waltz, when men are never quite
themselves. She would give him time to get over it.
"I am not making love to Mrs. Arlington," he retorted abruptly.
"I should think not," said Patsy, as instantaneously. "As an officer and
a gentleman I should hope that you know better what England expects of
you--Patsy Ferris also. What does the man suppose he is here for, that
he should begin by telling me that? But seriously, Louis, you used to be
always one to strike out new paths for yourself--why do you stick to the
dusty highway--or, perhaps one might say in Mrs. Arlington's case, the
old military road?"
"Patsy," said Louis, "_you_ do not need to say things like that. You are
too pretty. Mrs. Arlington is a kind woman, much spoken against and
abominably maligned. Besides, she is a great admirer of yours, and would
give anything to be introduced to you! She told me so!"
Patsy whistled a mellow but mocking blackbird's note which very nearly
brought the Duke of Kent, and half-a-dozen of his compeers, upon them.
However, they passed on, in spite of royal instructions to "stop and
search--some of these little she-vixens are signalling us!"
While the danger lasted, Patsy had gripped Louis by the wrist as she
used to do in the woods when her uncle or some prowling gamekeeper went
by. And the pressure of her fingers made his pulses fly. Patsy sighed,
for she knew well that she was laying up wrath against herself, but for
the present she disregarded the future. She was saving Louis, and in
order to do this she must attach him to herself. It was a pity, of
course, because it would inevitably lead to entanglements. Louis would
blame her. Lady Lucy would blame her, and perhaps, at least till she had
an occasion to explain, the Earl would also be angry. But of this last
she was in no very deadly fear. Of all the explanations which fall to be
made in this weary world, she found those with well-affected old
gentlemen to be the easiest. And indeed, she was not very particular
whether they were well-affected or not--that is, to begin with. The
shikar was only the more interesting if the tiger growled and showed his
teeth a bit at first.
Thereafter Patsy laid herself out to tease Louis, to bedazzle the poor
boy's brain, and to reduce him to the state of drivelling incompetence
induced by disobedience to the Arlington and dancing with herself. She
went so far that Louis, filled with a spirit more heady than wine, got
down on his knees and was trying to make Patsy understand his undying
devotion, when the curtain was pushed furiously aside and Mrs. Arlington
appeared menacing in the brilliant illumination of the stairs. Behind,
having no connection with her, but equally there on a mission of
vengeance, loomed up the chubby giant, Prince Eitel of Altschloss.
"Ah, Prince," said Patsy, not in the least ruffled, "is it time for our
dance already?"
"No," said the Prince austerely, "our dance was five or six back!"
Patsy glanced at her programme. She had carried it out to the very
hieroglyph. All those dances which she had specially marked, she had sat
out with Louis in the niche on the stairs. And now she did not mean to
leave the spoil in the hands of the enemy.
She rose to her feet, shook out her skirts, and said, "Now, Louis, give
me your arm and take me back to Lady Lucy. I don't think I shall dance
any more to-night. You had better come with us to Raincy House!
Good-night, Prince! I suppose we shall see you to-morrow!"
And so departed with the honours of war, leaving Eitel and Mrs.
Arlington to console each other as best they might.