When His Grace, who had been a good deal puzzled by his abrupt, under-
stamped invitation, stepped, head in air, into the drawing-room, he was
somewhat taken aback to discover neither the captain nor his charming
elder daughter, but instead, to be greeted by a little girl, nervously
put forward by a small boy, and saying--
"Oh, duke, _do_ you mind coming? I hope you'll enjoy the party so much.
There'll be some dancing presently, and supper as soon as all the
others come."
"You're the first," said Tom. "Never mind, the others won't be long.
Like to read the newspaper, or take a turn round?"
Mentally he was calculating how he should manage to squeeze in the
duke's two daughters, who hadn't been invited, at his hospitable board.
The duke smiled affably.
"We are rather early, but Miss Rosalind will excuse--"
"Oh, she's away--so is father. This is my party and Tom's. Oh, duke,
do try and like it!" said Jill, taking the great man's hand.
The duke cast a scared look over his shoulder at his daughters, who were
staring in a somewhat awestruck manner at their two small hosts.
"If the girls would like to begin dancing," suggested Tom, "Jill can
play her piece now, and you can take one, and I'll take the other.
It'll keep the things going, you know, till the rest turn up."
At this juncture Dr Brandram was announced, greatly to Tom's delight,
who, among so many strangers, was beginning to feel a little shy.
"That's all right," said he. "Good old Brandy! you lead off with one of
the Marigold girls, while I stop here and do the how-d'ye-do's."
The doctor, with a serious face, led His Grace aside.
"This appears to be a freak of the two young people," said he. "They
are the only members of the family at home. I am very sorry you have
been victimised."
"Tut, tut," said the duke, recovering his good-humour rapidly, "I don't
mean to be a victim at all. I mean to enjoy myself; so do you, doctor.
Girls," said he to his daughters, "you must see the youngsters through
this. Ha, ha! what is the rising generation coming to, to be sure."
Arrivals now began to drop in smartly, and as Tom looked round on the
gradually filling drawing-room, a mild perspiration broke out on his
ingenious brow.
Jill had gallantly struck up her polka on the piano, but as no one
listened and no one danced, she gave it up and returned to the support
of her brother.
"It's going splendidly," said Tom in a stage whisper; "they all seem to
be enjoying it."
They certainly were--for as each gradually took in the situation, and
received his cue from his neighbour, an unwonted air of humour permeated
the room.
A few hoity-toity persons of course felt outraged, and would have
ordered their carriages had there been any one to order them from. The
honest Raffles was, to tell the truth, secretly busy, on a signal from
Tom, preparing for the banquet in the dining-room, and no other servant
was to be seen.
"My dear," said Mrs Pottinger, in a severely audible voice to her
husband, "I wish to return home. Will you get our carriage? My ideas
of amusement do not correspond with those of the young people."
"Oh, don't go yet!" said Tom, with beaming face, for he had caught sight
of Raffles' powdered wig at the door; "there's some grub ready in the
next room. It would have been ready before, only the herrings--"
"Tom," said Jill, "there's the Bishop just come. He couldn't come for
Roger's birthday, you know."
"How do you do, Bishop?" said Tom, grasping the new arrival by the hand.
"Jolly you could come this time. I was just saying there's some grub
in the next room. Jill, Raff had better ring up on the gong, tell him."
Raffles accordingly sounded an alarm on the gong, which brought the
company to attention.
"Supper!" cried Tom encouragingly, and led the way, allowing the company
generally to sort themselves.
The Duke behaved nobly that night. He gallantly gave his arm to Jill,
and asked the Bishop to bring in one of his daughters. This saved Miss
Oliphant's party from the collapse which threatened it. Every one took
the cue from the great people. Even Mrs Pottinger accepted the arm of
the curate, and the ardent youths, who had all arrived under the
delusion that Miss Rosalind was the hostess, forgot their
disappointment, and vowed to see the youngsters through with it.
"Oh, Duke!" said Jill, hanging affectionately on her noble escort's arm,
"are you liking it? Do try and like it! It's Tom's and my first party,
and we want it to be a jolly one."
"I never enjoyed a party half so much," said His Grace.
Jill thought him at that moment almost as nice as dear Mr Armstrong.
"Jill," said Tom, waylaying his sister at the door, "we might have cut
the herrings in three after all. Never mind, some of them will be able
to have two goes. I'll see you do. Good old Jilly. Isn't it going off
prime? And you know, the fireworks are still to come!"
It was too severe a strain on the gravity of some of the guests when
they beheld each his "go" of lukewarm herring, cocoa-nut, coffee-ice,
and penny bun, with a single plate to accommodate the whole, on the
board before him. But the laughter, if it reached the ears of the
genial host and hostess, was taken by them as a symptom of delight, in
which they heartily shared.
Tom, as he cast his eye down the festive board--object of so much
solicitude and physical exertion--never felt happier in his life. More
than half of the company would be able to get a second helping of fish
and bun!
"Wire in," said he to his guests generally, and to the younger Lady
Marigold, his next neighbour, in particular, "before it gets cold.
Awfully sorry the cocoa-nut milk wasn't enough to go round, so Jill and
I thought--"
Here a guilty look from Jill pulled him up. Dear old Jilly, he wouldn't
let out on her for worlds.
A good many eyes turned curiously to where the Duke sat with his "go"
before him. Those who were quick at observing details noticed that he
had ranged his cocoa-nut and ice on the edge of his plate, and was
beginning to attack his herring with every sign of relish. His portion
consisted mostly of hard roe, for which he had no natural predilection,
but this evening he seemed to enjoy it, helping it down with occasional
bites at the bun, and keeping up a cheerful conversation the while.
The Bishop, too, who had a tail, was making a capital meal, as were also
several other of the guests near him.
"Capital fish!" said the Duke presently. Then beckoning to Raffles,
"Can you get me a little more?"
"Yes, your grace."
Tom felt a little anxious lest Raffles should select from out of the
surplus "goes" one of those with the heads which were to eke out in a
last emergency. But when he saw that the duke's second helping
consisted of a prime "waist" he rejoiced with all his heart.
"Isn't it nice?" asked Jill, who had been busily at work under the
shadow of his ducal wing.
"My dear little lady, I never tasted such a meal in my life."
In due time the cocoa-nut and coffee-ice were attacked with quite as
much relish as the first course; after which Tom, looking a little warm,
rose and made a little speech.
"I hope you've all liked it," said he. "I was afraid there wouldn't be
enough, but some of them didn't turn up, so it was all right after all.
Jill--that's my young sister here--cut the `goes' up, and I don't know
anybody more fair all round than her. She and I are awfully glad you
came, and hope you'll have a good old time. Please don't tell the
governor or Rosalind we gave this party. I beg to propose the health of
my young sister--good old Jilly. She's a regular brick, and has backed
up no end in this do. No heel-taps!"
A good many healths had been drunk in the county during the year, but
few of them were more genuinely responded to than this. And no queen
ever bore her honours more delightfully than the little heroine of the
evening.
"I suppose we'd better cut into the next room now," suggested Tom, when
this function was over. "There'll be some fireworks by and by; but any
one who likes a hop meanwhile can have one. Jill knows a ripping piece
to play."
The invitation was cordially responded to, and when, after sundry
repetitions of the "ripping" piece, the eldest Miss Marigold offered to
play a waltz, and after her Miss Shafto relieved duty with a polka, and
after her one of the ardent youths actually condescended to perform a
set of quadrilles, in which His Grace the Duke, with Jill as his
partner, led off _vis-a-vis_ with the Bishop and the sister of the
member for the county, there was no room to doubt the glorious success
of Miss Oliphant's party.
Tom meanwhile, joyous at heart, warm in temperature, and excited in
mind, was groping on his knees on the damp grass outside the drawing-
room window, fixing his two threepenny Roman candles in reversed flower
pots, and planting his starlights, crackers, and Catherine-wheels in
advantageous positions in the vicinity, casting now and again a
delighted glance at the animated scene within, and wondering if he had
ever spent a jollier evening anywhere.
It disturbed him to hear a vehicle rattle up the drive, and to argue
therefrom that some belated guest had missed the feast. Never mind; he
shouldn't be quite out of it.
"Raffles," called he, as he caught sight of that hardworking functionary
through the dining-room window removing the _debris_ of the banquet,
"leave a few `goes' out on the table for any chaps who come late, and
then go and tell Jill I'm ready, and turn down the gas in the drawing-
room."
In due time Raffles delivered his momentous message.
"Oh, the fireworks!" cried Miss Jill, clapping her hands, "the fireworks
are to begin. Aren't you glad, duke? Do get a good seat before the gas
is turned down."
The company crowded into the big bay-window, and endured the extinction
of the light with great good-humour. Indeed, a certain gentleman who
entered the room at this particular juncture, seeing nothing, but
hearing the laughter and talk, said to himself that this was as merry an
occasion as it had been his lot to participate in.
The dim form of Tom might be seen hovering without, armed with a bull's-
eye lantern, at which he diligently kindling matches, which refused to
stay in long enough to ignite the refractory fireworks.
"Never mind," said he to himself, "they'll like it when they do go off."
So they did. After a quarter of an hour's waiting one of the Roman
candles went off with vast _eclat_, and after it two crackers
simultaneously gave chase to the operator half-way round the lawn. One
of the Catherine-wheels was also prevailed upon to give a few languid
rotations on its axis, and some of the squibs, which had unfortunately
got damp, condescended, after being inserted bodily into the lantern, to
go off. Presently, however, the wind got into the lantern, and the
matches being by this time exhausted, and the starlights refusing to
depart from their usual abhorrence for spontaneous combustion, the
judicious Tom deemed it prudent to pronounce this part of the
entertainment at an end.
"All over!" he shouted through the window. "Turn up the light."
When, after the applause which greeted this imposing display, the gas
was turned up, the first sight which met Miss Jill's eyes was the form
of Mr Robert Ratman, in travelling costume, nodding familiarly across
the room.
At the sight the little lady's face blanched, and the joy of the evening
vanished like smoke.
"Oh, Duke!" she exclaimed, clinging to her guest's arm, "do please turn
that wicked man there out of the house. We didn't invite him, and he's
no right, really. If dear Mr Armstrong was only here! Please put him
out."
The duke looked a little blank at this appeal.
"Why, child, really? Who is he?" he asked.
"A wicked, bad man, that I hate; and I did think you would be kind
enough to--"
"What is his name?"
"Mr Ratman; he hurt me awfully once."
The duke, feeling that Miss Oliphant's party was taking rather a serious
turn, walked across the room to where Mr Ratman was already engaged in
an uncomfortable colloquy with Dr Brandram.
"What are you doing here?" the doctor had asked.
"That's my business," said Mr Ratman. "For the matter of that, what
are you doing here?"
"Among other things, I am here to see that the young people of the house
are not annoyed by the intrusion of a person called Ratman."
"And I," said the duke, coming up, "am here to advise you to save
trouble by leaving the house."
"And who are you, sir?"
"I am the Duke of Somewhere."
"Proud to renew my acquaintance, sir. May I ask if you have quite
forgotten me?"
"Sir, you have the advantage of me. I never saw you before."
"Pardon me, my lord, you saw me a month ago, at a birthday party in this
very house."
"If so, I was not sufficiently impressed sir, to remember you now. I
repeat my request as the friend of the young lady."
"Ah, indeed!" said Ratman; "I am not aware, your grace, of your right to
speak to me in the name of Miss Oliphant, or anybody else."
"Oh," said Tom, arriving on the scene at this juncture, "you there,
Ratty? you'd better clear out. All the grub's done, and you're not
wanted here. We didn't ask you--took care not to. Rosalind's not here.
This is Jilly's and my party. Isn't it, you chaps?" The chaps
appealed to, His Grace, the doctor, and one or two of the other guests,
corroborated this statement.
Mr Ratman leant comfortably against the wall.
"Flattering reception," said he. "I am inclined to take your lordship's
advice and go; but before I do, may I ask your lordship again if you
really do not remember me?"
"I never saw you before, sir," said His Grace; "and allow me to add, I
have no desire to see you again."
"_Dear_ Duke!" whispered Jill encouragingly, putting her hand in his.
"Odd the changes a few years make," rejoined Mr Ratman. "I presume
your lordship's memory can carry you back a little time--say twenty
years?"
"What of that, sir?"
"Merely that if that is so, you probably can remember a lad named Roger
Ingleton who lived in this house, son of the old Squire."
There was a dead silence now, and the Duke looked in a startled way at
the speaker.
"I see you remember that boy," said the intruder; "and you probably
heard the story of my--I mean his quarrel with his father, and also
heard of his supposed death. Now, your grace, put twenty years on to
that boy, and suppose the story of his death was a myth, then say again
you don't remember me."
"What, you mean to say _you_ are young Roger Ingleton?"
"At your grace's service."
Tom gave a whistle, half dismay, half amusement. The doctor smiled
contemptuously. The duke bit his lip and gazed stolidly at the speaker.
"You are not obliged to believe me," said the latter jauntily; "only you
wanted to know my business in Maxfield, and I have told you. I don't
say I'm the heir, for I understand my father was good enough to cut me
out of every penny of his estate. And as for being a paragon of virtue,
or the opposite, that's my affair and no one else's--eh, your grace?"
His Grace was much disturbed. He had once seen young Roger Ingleton, at
that time a mere boy, but retained no distinct memory of him. At the
time of the quarrel between father and son he had been abroad, and the
news of the lad's death had been formally communicated as a matter
beyond question. Recognition, as far as he was concerned, was
impossible.
"You choose a strange time, sir," said he, "for coming here with this
story, when the heir and his guardians are both away."
"I supposed my brother was here," said Ratman. "In any case he knows
who I am; so does your friend the tutor, Dr Brandram."
"Oh, why _do_ you stop talking to that hateful man instead of coming,
and enjoying the party?" pleaded Jill.
"Ah, my little lady, is that you?" said Ratman advancing.
But his passage was intercepted by the doctor.
"Gently, my friend," said he. "Now that you have relieved yourself of
your pretty story, let me suggest that the easiest way out of this house
is by the door."
"Who are you, sir?" blustered Ratman.
Dr Brandram laughed.
"I must have changed in twenty years as much as you," said he.
"I am not going to ask _your_ leave to be in my father's house."
"I am not going to ask your leave to put you out of it."
Tom's spirits rose. There seemed every promise of an unrehearsed
entertainment for the delectation of his guests.
"I caution you, sir."
"I will take all responsibility," said the doctor. "Anything more you
have to say can just as well be said in Mr Pottinger's office to-morrow
morning as here."
"Thank you, sir," said Mr Ratman, with a snarl. "It is never pleasant
to have to introduce oneself, but I am glad to have had the opportunity
before this distinguished company. It is now the turn of the other side
to move. If they want me they must find me. Good night, your grace;
you are a nice loyal neighbour to an old comrade's boy. Good night,
you, sir; take as much responsibility as you like if it is any
satisfaction to you. Good-bye, my pretty little Jill; some day you'll
have to call me cousin Roger, and then we'll be quits. Good night,
gentlemen and ladies all. The prodigal's return has not been a success,
I own, but it's a fact all the same. _Au revoir_."
And he bowed himself out.
"This fellow is either the most impudent villain I ever met," said the
Duke, "or there is something in his story."
This seemed to be the general impression. A few, Dr Brandram among
them, scoffed irreverently at the whole affair. But the majority of
those present felt decidedly disturbed by the incident, and poor Miss
Jill Oliphant had the mortification of seeing her party drop flat after
all.
Tom and she made Herculean efforts to rehabilitate it. Jill played her
polka till she was tired, and Tom, after setting out all the duplicate
"goes" in the hall, retired to grope in the wet grass for a few of the
unexploded squibs.
Some of the guests did what they could to back their hosts up, and made
great show of enjoying themselves, but the Duke was preoccupied, and the
Bishop was pensive. The Marigold girls talked in a corner, and Mr
Pottinger was out in the hall calling for his carriage.
"Odious man!" said the poor little hostess, "he's spoiled all our fun.
No one likes our party now. They'll all be glad to get away; and we did
try so hard to make it jolly."
"Never mind," said Tom cheerfully, "it would have been worse if he had
turned up before the grub and the fireworks. They didn't miss them.
Keep it up, Jilly, I say; it's going off all right."
When it came to saying good night, every one remembered their genial
entertainers, and Jill was a little consoled by the assurances she
received on all hands that the evening had been a delightful one.
"Try to think it was nice," said she, "and don't go saying it was horrid
as soon as you get outside. It's Tom's and my first party, you know."
And she kissed all the gentlemen, from the Duke downward, and Tom,
hovering in the hall, pressed his farewell refreshments, as far as they
would go, upon them and gave them a "leg up" into their carriages.
Dr Brandram stayed till the end.
"I should have to come and see Mrs Parker in the morning in any case,"
said he, "so I have told Raffles to make me a shake down in Armstrong's
room to-night. I may as well stay here."
The precaution, however, was unnecessary. Mr Ratman had vanished. He
did not call on Mr Pottinger next morning, nor was he to be found at
the hotel. He had returned by the early morning train to London.