The strange lady appeared to know him--also in a familiar way. She was
the Honourable Miss Courtney--Geraldine Courtney.
With such a high-sounding name, she could not look other than
aristocratic.
She was pretty as well, and accomplished; with just that dash of
freedom, in speech and in manner, which distinguishes the lady of _haut
ton_ from the wife or daughter of a "tradesman."
In Miss Courtney it was carried to a slight excess. So a prudish person
might have thought.
But Mrs Girdwood was not prudish--least of all, in the presence of such
people. She was delighted with the Honourable Geraldine; and wondered
not at her wild way--only at her amiable condescensions!
She was charmed also with the count, and his beautiful countess.
His lordship had done the correct thing at last--by introducing her to
such company. Though still passing under the assumed name of Swinton--
even among his own friends--the invitation to that dinner-party disarmed
her of suspicion. The dinner itself still more; and she no longer
sought to penetrate the mystery of his _incognito_.
Besides, he had repeated the plea that hitherto satisfied her. Still
was it diplomacy!
Even Julia was less distant with him. A house handsomely furnished; a
table profusely spread; titled guests around it; well-dressed servants
in waiting--all this proved that Mr Swinton was somebody. And it was
only his temporary town residence, taken for a time and a purpose--still
diplomacy. She had not yet seen his splendid place in the country, to
which he had given hints of an invitation.
Proud republican as Julia Girdwood was, she was still but the child of a
_parvenu_.
And there was something in the surroundings to affect her fancy. She
saw this man, Mr Swinton, whom she had hitherto treated slightingly,
now in the midst of his own friends, behaving handsomely, and treated
with respect. Such friends, too! all bearing titles--all accomplished--
two of them beautiful women, who appeared not only intimate with, but
complaisant toward him!
Moreover, no one could fail to see that he was handsome. He had never
looked better, in her eyes, than on that evening. It was a situation
not only to stir curiosity, but suggest thoughts of rivalry.
And perhaps Julia Girdwood had them. It was the first time she had
figured in the company of titled aristocracy. It would not be strange
if her fancy was affected in such presence. Higher pride than hers has
succumbed to its influence.
She was not the only one of her party who gave way to the wayward
influences of the hour, and the seductions of their charming host Mr
Lucas, inspired by repeated draughts of sherry and champagne, forgot his
past antipathies, and of course burned to embrace him. Mr Lucas's
shadow, Spiller, was willing to do the same!
Perhaps the only one of Mrs Girdwood's set who preserved independence,
was the daughter of the Poughkeepsie shopkeeper. In her quiet,
unpretending way, Cornelia showed dignity for superior to that of her
own friends, or even the grand people to whom they had been presented.
But even she had no suspicion of the shams that surrounded her. No more
than her aunt Girdwood did she dream that Mr Swinton was Mr Swinton;
that the countess was his wife; that the count was an impostor--like
Swinton himself playing a part; and that the Honourable Geraldine was a
lady of Mrs Swinton's acquaintance, alike accomplished and equally
well-known in the circles of Saint John's Wood, under the less
aristocratic cognomen of "Kate the coper." Belonging to the sisterhood
of "pretty horse-breakers," she had earned this sobriquet by exhibiting
superior skill in disposing of her cast steeds!
Utterly ignorant of the game that was being played, as of the players,
Mrs Girdwood spent the evening in a state approaching to supreme
delight Mr Swinton, ever by her side, took the utmost pains to cancel
the debt of hospitality long due; and he succeeded in cancelling it.
If she could have had any suspicion of his dishonesty, it would have
been dispelled by an incident that occurred during the course of the
evening.
As it was an episode interrupting the entertainment, we shall be excused
for describing it.
The guests in the drawing-room were taking tea and coffee, carried round
to them by the savants--a staff hired from a fashionable confectionery--
when the gate-bell jingled under the touch of a hand that appeared used
to the pulling of it.
"I can tell that ring," said Swinton, speaking loud enough for his
guests to hear him. "I'll lay a wager it's Lord --."
"Lord --!"
The name was that of a distinguished nobleman--more distinguished still
as a great statesman! Swinton's proclaiming it caused his company a
thrill--the strangers looking incredulous.
They had scarce time to question him before a servant, entering the
room, communicated something in a whisper.
"His lordship is it?" said the master, in a muttered tone, just loud
enough to reach the ear of Mrs Girdwood. "Show him into the front
parlour. Say I shall be down in a second. Ladies and gentlemen?" he
continued, turning to his guests, "will yaw excuse me for one moment--
only a moment? I have a visitor who cannot well be denied."
They excused him, of course; and for a time he was gone out of the room.
And of course his guests were curious to know who was the visitor, who
"could not well be denied."
On his return they questioned him; the "countess," with an imperative
earnestness that called for an answer.
"Well, ladies and gentlemen," said their amiable entertainer, "if yaw
insist upon knowing who has been making this vewiy ill-timed call upon
me, I suppose I must satisfy yaw kewyosity. I was wight in my
conjectyaw. It was Lord --. His lawdship simply dwopped in upon a
matter of diplomatic business."
"Oh! it was Lord --!" exclaimed the Honourable Geraldine.
"Why didn't you ask him in here? He's a dear old fellow, as I know; and
I'm sure he would have come. Mr Swinton! I'm very angry with you?"
"'Pon honaw! Miss Courtney, I'm vewy sorry; I didn't think of it, else
I should have been most happy."
"He's gone, I suppose?"
"Aw, yas. He went away as soon as he undawstood I had company."
And this was true--all true. The nobleman in question had really been
in the front parlour, and had gone off on learning what was passing
upstairs in the drawing-room.
He had parted, too, with a feeling of disappointment, almost chagrin;
though it was not diplomatic business to which the villa was indebted
for his visit.
However fruitless his calling had proved to him, it was not without
advantage to Mr Swinton.
"The man who receives midnight visits from a lord, and that lord a
distinguished statesman, must either be a lord himself, _or a
somebody_!"
This was said in soliloquy by the retail storekeeper's widow, as that
night she stretched herself upon one of the luxurious couches of the
"Clarendon."
About the same time, her daughter gave way to a somewhat similar
reflection.