THE DINNER AT THE BUSH.
Here is the letter which at his brother-in-law's advice Lord Rufford
wrote to Arabella:
Rufford, 3 February, 1875.
MY DEAR MISS TREFOIL,
It is a great grief to me that I should have to answer
your letter in a manner that will I fear not be
satisfactory to you. I can only say that you have
altogether mistaken me if you think that I have said
anything which was intended as an offer of marriage. I
cannot but be much flattered by your good opinion. I have
had much pleasure from our acquaintance, and I should have
been glad if it could have been continued. But I have had
no thoughts of marriage. If I have said a word which has,
unintentionally on my part, given rise to such an idea I
can only beg your pardon heartily. If I were to add more
after what I have now said perhaps you would take it as an
impertinence.
Yours most sincerely,
RUFFORD.
He had desired to make various additions and suggestions which
however had all been disallowed by Sir George Penwether. He had
proposed among other things to ask her whether he should keep Jack
for her for the remainder of the season or whether he should send the
horse elsewhere, but Sir George would not allow a word in the letter
about Jack. "You did give her the horse then?" he asked.
"I had hardly any alternative as the things went. She would have been
quite welcome to the horse if she would have let me alone
afterwards."
"No doubt; but when young gentlemen give young ladies horses--"
"I know all about it, my dear fellow. Pray don't preach more than you
can help. Of course I have been an infernal ass. I know all that. But
as the horse is hers--"
"Say nothing about the horse. Were she to ask for it of course she
could have it; but that is not likely."
"And you think I had better say nothing else."
"Not a word. Of course it will be shown to all her friends and may
possibly find its way into print. I don't know what steps such a
young lady may be advised to take. Her uncle is a man of honour. Her
father is an ass and careless about everything. Mistletoe will not
improbably feel himself bound to act as though he were her brother.
They will, of course, all think you to be a rascal,--and will say
so."
"If Mistletoe says so I'll horsewhip him."
"No you won't, Rufford. You will remember that this woman is a woman,
and that a woman's friends are bound to stand up for her. After all
your hands are not quite clean in the matter."
"I am heavy enough on myself, Penwether. I have been a fool and I own
it. But I have done nothing unbecoming a gentleman." He was almost
tempted to quarrel with his brother-in-law, but at last he allowed
the letter to be sent just as Sir George had written it, and then
tried to banish the affair from his mind for the present so that he
might enjoy his life till the next hostile step should be taken by
the Trefoil clan.
When Larry Twentyman received the lord's note, which was left at
Chowton Farm by Hampton's groom, he was in the lowest depth of
desolation. He had intended to hunt that day in compliance with
John Morton's advice, but had felt himself quite unable to make the
effort. It was not only that he had been thrown over by Mary Masters,
but that everybody knew that he had been thrown over. If he had kept
the matter secret, perhaps he might have borne it;--but it is so
hard to bear a sorrow of which all one's neighbours are conscious.
When a man is reduced by poverty to the drinking of beer instead of
wine, it is not the loss of the wine that is so heavy on him as the
consciousness that those around him are aware of the reason. And he
is apt to extend his idea of this consciousness to a circle that is
altogether indifferent of the fact. That a man should fail in his
love seems to him to be of all failures the most contemptible, and
Larry thought that there would not be one in the field unaware of his
miserable rejection. In spite of his mother's prayers he had refused
to go, and had hung about the farm all day.
Then there came to him Lord Rufford's note. It had been quite
unexpected, and a month or two before, when his hopes had still been
high in regard to Mary Masters, would have filled him with delight.
It was the foible of his life to be esteemed a gentleman, and his
poor ambition to be allowed to live among men of higher social
standing than himself. Those dinners of Lord Rufford's at the Bush
had been a special grief to him. The young lord had been always
courteous to him in the field, and he had been able, as he thought,
to requite such courtesy by little attentions in the way of game
preserving. If pheasants from Dillsborough Wood ate Goarly's wheat,
so did they eat Larry Twentyman's barley. He had a sportsman's heart,
above complaint as to such matters, and had always been neighbourly
to the lord. No doubt pheasants and hares were left at his house
whenever there was shooting in the neighbourhood,--which to his
mother afforded great consolation. But Larry did not care for the
pheasants and hares. Had he so pleased he could have shot them on
his own land; but he did not preserve, and, as a good neighbour,
he regarded the pheasants and hares as Lord Rufford's property. He
felt that he was behaving as a gentleman as well as a neighbour, and
that he should be treated as such. Fred Botsey had dined at the Bush
with Lord Rufford, and Larry looked on Fred as in no way better than
himself.
Now at last the invitation had come. He was asked to a day's shooting
and to dine with the lord and his party at the inn. How pleasant
would it be to give a friendly nod to Runciman as he went into the
room, and to assert afterwards in Botsey's hearing something of
the joviality of the evening. Of course Hampton would be there as
Hampton's servant had brought the note, and he was very anxious to be
on friendly terms with Mr. Hampton. Next to the lord himself there
was no one in the hunt who carried his head so high as young Hampton.
But there arose to him the question whether all this had not arrived
too late! Of what good is it to open up the true delights of life
to a man when you have so scotched and wounded him that he has no
capability left of enjoying anything? As he sat lonely with his
pipe in his mouth he thought for a while that he would decline the
invitation. The idea of selling Chowton Farm and of establishing
himself at some Antipodes in which the name of Mary Masters should
never have been heard, was growing upon him. Of what use would the
friendship of Lord Rufford be to him at the other side of the globe?
At last, however, the hope of giving that friendly nod to Runciman
overcame him, and he determined to go. He wrote a note, which caused
him no little thought, presenting his compliments to Lord Rufford and
promising to meet his lordship's party at Dillsborough Wood.
The shooting went off very well and Larry behaved himself with
propriety. He wanted the party to come in and lunch, and had given
sundry instructions to his mother on that head. But they did not
remain near to his place throughout the day, and his efforts in that
direction were not successful. Between five and six he went home, and
at half-past seven appeared at the Bush attired in his best. He never
yet had sat down with a lord, and his mind misgave him a little; but
he had spirit enough to look about for Runciman,--who, however, was
not to be seen.
Sir George was not there, but the party had been made up, as regarded
the dinner, by the addition of Captain Glomax, who had returned
from hunting. Captain Glomax was in high glee, having had,--as he
declared,--the run of the season. When a Master has been deserted on
any day by the choice spirits of his hunt he is always apt to boast
to them that he had on that occasion the run of the season. He had
taken a fox from Impington right across to Hogsborough, which, as
every one knows, is just on the borders of the U. R. U., had then run
him for five miles into Lord Chiltern's country, and had killed him
in the centre of the Brake Hunt, after an hour and a half, almost
without a check. "It was one of those straight things that one
doesn't often see now-a-days," said Glomax.
"Any pace?" asked Lord Rufford.
"Very good, indeed, for the first forty minutes. I wish you had all
been there. It was better fun I take it than shooting rabbits."
Then Hampton put the Captain through his facings as to time and
distance and exact places that had been passed, and ended by
expressing an opinion that he could have kicked his hat as fast on
foot. Whereupon the Captain begged him to try, and hinted that he did
not know the country. In answer to which Hampton offered to bet a
five-pound note that young Jack Runce would say that the pace had
been slow. Jack was the son of the old farmer whom the Senator had so
disgusted, and was supposed to know what he was about on a horse. But
Glomax declined the bet saying that he did not care a ---- for Jack
Runce. He knew as much about pace as any farmer, or for the matter
of that any gentleman, in Ufford or Rufford, and the pace for forty
minutes had been very good. Nevertheless all the party were convinced
that the "thing" had been so slow that it had not been worth riding
to;--a conviction which is not uncommon with gentlemen when they have
missed a run. In all this discussion poor Larry took no great part
though he knew the country as well as any one. Larry had not as yet
got over the awe inspired by the lord in his black coat.
Perhaps Larry's happiest moment in the evening was when Runciman
himself brought in the soup, for at that moment Lord Rufford put his
hand on his shoulder and desired him to sit down,--and Runciman both
heard and saw it. And at dinner, when the champagne had been twice
round, he became more comfortable. The conversation got upon Goarly,
and in reference to that matter he was quite at home. "It's not my
doing," said Lord Rufford. "I have instructed no one to keep him
locked up."
"It's a very good job from all that I can hear," said Tom Surbiton.
"All I did was to get Mr. Masters here to take up the case for me,
and I learned from him to-day that the rascal had already agreed to
take the money I offered. He only bargains that it shall be paid
into his own hands,--no doubt desiring to sell the attorney he has
employed."
"Bearside has got his money from the American Senator, my lord," said
Larry.
"They may fight it out among them. I don't care who gets the money or
who pays it as long as I'm not imposed upon."
"We must proceed against that man Scrobby," said Glomax with all the
authority of a Master.
"You'll never convict him on Goarly's evidence," said the Lord.
Then Larry could give them further information. Nickem had positively
traced the purchase of the red herrings. An old woman in Rufford was
ready to swear that she herself had sold them to Mrs. Scrobby. Tom
Surbiton suggested that the possession of red herrings was not of
itself a crime. Hampton thought that it was corroborative. Captain
Battersby wanted to know whether any of the herrings were still in
existence, so that they could be sworn to. Glomax was of opinion that
villainy of so deep a dye could not have taken place in any other
hunting country in England.
"There's been strychnine put down in the Brake too," said Hampton.
"But not in cartloads," said the Master.
"I rather think," said Larry, "that Nickem knows where the strychnine
was bought. That'll make a clear case of it. Hanging would be too
good for such a scoundrel." This was said after the third glass of
champagne, but the opinion was one which was well received by the
whole company. After that the Senator's conduct was discussed, and
they all agreed that in the whole affair that was the most marvellous
circumstance. "They must be queer people over there," said Larry.
"Brutes!" said Glomax. "They once tried a pack of hounds somewhere in
one of the States, but they never could run a yard."
There was a good deal of wine drank, which was not unusual at Lord
Rufford's dinners. Most of the company were seasoned vessels, and
none of them were much the worse for what they drank. But the
generous wine got to Larry's heart, and perhaps made his brain a
little soft. Lord Rufford remembering what had been said about the
young man's misery tried to console him by attention; and as the
evening wore on, and when the second cigars had been lit all round,
the two were seated together in confidential conversation at a
corner of the table. "Yes, my lord; I think I shall hook it," said
Larry. "Something has occurred that has made the place not quite so
comfortable to me; and as it is all my own I think I shall sell it."
"We should miss you immensely in the hunt," said Lord Rufford, who of
course knew what the something was.
"It's very kind of you to say so, my lord. But there are things which
may make a man go."
"Nothing serious, I hope."
"Just a young woman, my lord. I don't want it talked about, but I
don't mind mentioning it to you."
"You should never let those troubles touch you so closely," said his
lordship, whose own withers at this moment were by no means unwrung.
"I dare say not. But if you feel it, how are you to help it? I shall
do very well when I get away. Chowton Farm is not the only spot in
the world."
"But a man so fond of hunting as you are!"
"Well;--yes. I shall miss the hunting, my lord,--shan't I? If Mr.
Morton don't buy the place I should like it to go to your lordship.
I offered it to him first because it came from them."
"Quite right. By-the-bye, I hear that Mr. Morton is very ill."
"So I heard," said Larry. "Nupper has been with him, I know, and I
fancy they have sent for somebody from London. I don't know that he
cares much about the land. He thinks more of the foreign parts he's
always in. I don't believe we should fall out about the price, my
lord." Then Lord Rufford explained that he would not go into that
matter just at present, but that if the place were in the market he
would certainly like to buy it. He, however, did as John Morton had
done before, and endeavoured to persuade the poor fellow that he
should not alter the whole tenor of his life because a young lady
would not look at him.
"Good night, Mr. Runciman," said Larry as he made his way down-stairs
to the yard. "We've had an uncommon pleasant evening."
"I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself, Larry." Larry thought that his
Christian name from the hotel keeper's lips had never sounded so
offensively as on the present occasion.