THE MEETING.
There was ruin in the Ascot family, we know. And Lord Ascot, crippled
with paralysis at six-and-forty, was lying in South Audley Street,
nursed by Lady Ascot. The boxes, which we saw packed ready for their
foreign tour at the London Bridge Hotel, were still there--not gone
abroad yet, for the simple reason that Herodias had won the Oaks, and
that Lord Welter had won, some said seven, others said seventy thousand
pounds. (He had really won nine). So the boxes might stay where they
were a few days, and he might pursue his usual avocations in peace, all
his debts of honour being satisfied.
He had barely saved himself from being posted. Fortunately for him, he
had, on the Derby, betted chiefly with a few friends, one of whom was
Hornby; and they waited and said nothing till after the Oaks, when they
were paid, and Welter could hold up his head again. He was indebted to
the generosity of Hornby and Sir Charles Ferrars for his honour--the
very men whom he would have swindled. But he laughed and ate his
dinner, and said they were good fellows, and thought no more of it.
The bailiffs were at Ranford. The servants were gone, and the horses
were advertised at Tattersall's already. It was reported in the county
that an aged Jew, being in possession, and prowling about the premises,
had come into the poultry-yard, and had surreptitiously slain, cooked,
and essayed to eat, the famous cock "Sampson," the champion bird of
England, since his match with "Young Countryman." On being informed by
the old keeper that my lord had refused sixty guineas for him a few
weeks before, he had (so said the county) fled out of the house, tearing
his hair, and knocked old Lady Hainault, who had also come prowling over
in her pony-carriage, down the steps, flat on her back. Miss Hicks, who
was behind with her shawls, had picked her up, they said, and "caught
it."
If Adelaide was beautiful everywhere, surely she was more beautiful on
horseback than anywhere else, and no one knew it better than herself.
She was one of the few who appeared in the park in a low-crowned hat--a
"wide-awake." They are not _de rigueur_ even yet, I believe; but
Adelaide was never very particular, so long as she could look well. She
had found out how splendid her perfect mask looked under the careless,
irregular curves of such a head-dress, and how bright her banded hair
shone in contrast with a black ostrich feather which drooped on her
shoulder. And so she had taken to wear one since she had been Lady
Welter, and had appeared in the park in it twice.
Lord Welter bethought himself once in these times--that is, just after
the Oaks--that he would like to take his handsome wife out, and show her
in the park. His Hornby speculation had turned out ill; in fact, Hornby
had altogether made rather a handsome sum out of him, and he must look
for some one else. The some one else, a young Austrian, Pscechenyi by
name, a young fellow of wealth, had received his advances somewhat
coldly, and it became necessary to hang out Adelaide as a lure.
Lord Welter was aware that, if he had asked Adelaide to come and ride
with him, on the ground of giving her an afternoon's amusement, and
tried to persuade her to it by fair-spoken commonplaces, she would
probably not have come; and so he did nothing of the kind. He and his
wife thoroughly understood one another. There was perfect confidence
between them in everything. Towards one another they were perfectly
sincere; and this very sincerity begot a feeling of trust between them,
which ultimately ripened into something better. They began life together
without any professions of affection; but out of use, and a similarity
of character, there grew a liking in the end. She knew everything about
Lord Welter, save one thing, which she was to know immediately, and
which was of no importance; and she was always ready to help him,
provided, as she told him, "he didn't humbug," which his lordship, as we
know, was not inclined to do, without her caution.
Lord Welter went into her dressing-room, in the morning, and said--
"Here's a note from Pscechenyi. He won't come to-night."
"Indeed!" said Adelaide, brushing her hair. "I did not give him credit
for so much sense. Really, you know, he can't be such a fool as he
looks."
"We must have him," said Lord Welter.
"Of course we must," said Adelaide. "I really cannot allow such a fat
goose to run about with a knife and fork in him any longer. Heigh ho!
Let's see. He affects Lady Brittlejug, don't he? I am going to her party
to-night, and I'll capture him for you, and bring him home to you from
under her very nose. Now, do try and make a better hand of him than you
did of Hornby, or we shall all be in the workhouse together."
"I'll do my best," said Lord Welter, laughing. "But look here. I don't
think you'll catch him so, you know. She looks as well as you by
candlelight; but she can't ride a hang. Come out in the park this
afternoon. He will be there."
"Very well," said Adelaide; "I suppose you know best. I shall be glad of
a ride. Half-past two, then."
So, at the time appointed, these two innocent lambkins rode forth to
take the air. Lord Welter, big, burly, red-faced, good-humoured,
perfectly dressed, and sitting on his horse as few others could sit, the
model of a frank English nobleman. Adelaide, beautiful and fragile
beyond description, perfect in dress and carriage, riding trustingly and
lovingly in the shadow of her lord, the happy, timid bride all over.
They had no groom. What should a poor simple couple like them want with
a groom? It was a beautiful sight, and many turned to look at them.
But Lord Saltire, who was looking out of the drawing-room window of Lord
Ascot's house in South Audley Street, as they passed, turned to Marston,
and said very emphatically--
"Now, I do really wonder what infernal mischief those two are after.
There is an air of pastoral simplicity about their whole get-up, which
forebodes some very great--very great"--here he paused, took snuff, and
looked Marston straight in the face--"obliquity of moral purpose."
Meanwhile the unconscious innocents sauntered on into the park, under
the Marble Arch, and down towards Rotten Row. When they got into the
Row, they had a canter. There was Pscechenyi riding with Hornby and Miss
Buckjumper, but they gave them the "go by," and went sortly on towards
Kensington Gate. "Who is the woman in the hat and feathers?" said
everybody who didn't know. "Lady Welter" said everybody who did; and,
whatever else they said of her, they all agreed that she was wonderfully
beautiful, and rode divinely. When they came slowly back, they found
Hornby and the Austrian were standing against the rail, talking to some
ladies. They drew close up, and entered into conversation; and Adelaide
found herself beside Miss Buckjumper, now Lady Handlycross.
Adelaide was somewhat pleased to find herself at the side of this famous
horsewoman and beauty. She was so sure that comparisons would be
favourable to herself. And they were. If ever an exquisitely-formed nose
was, so to speak put out of joint, that nose was in the middle of Miss
Buckjumper's face that day. Nevertheless, she did not show anything. She
had rather a respect for Adelaide, as being a successful woman. Was not
she herself cantering for a coronet? There was very soon a group round
them, and Lord Welter's hoarse, jolly laugh was heard continually.
People, who were walking in the park to see the great people, paused
outside the circle to look at her, and repassed again. Mr. Pelagius J.
Bottom, of New York, whose father emigrated to Athens, and made a great
fortune at the weaving business in the time of King Theseus, got on a
bench, and looked at her through a double-barrelled opera-glass. There
never was such a success. The Austrian thought no more of Hornby's
cautions, thought no more of Miss Buckjumper or Lady Brittlejug. He was
desperately in love, and was dying for some excuse to withdraw his
refusal of this morning. Pelagius Jas. Bottom would have come, and
mortgaged the paternal weaving business at the dice, but unfortunately
his letters of introduction, being all addressed to respectable people,
did not include one to Lord and Lady Welter. All the young fellows would
have come and played all night, till church-time next morning, for her
sake. As Lord Welter candidly told her that night, she was the best
investment he had ever made.
They did not want all the young fellows though. Too many cooks spoil the
broth. They only wanted the young Austrian, and so Lord Welter said,
after a time, "I was in hopes of seeing you at my house last night."
That was quite enough. Fifty Hornbys would not have stopped him now.
Still they stood there talking. Adelaide was almost happy. Which of
these staid women had such power as she? There was a look of pride and
admiration even on Lord Welter's stupid face. Yes, it was a great
success. Suddenly all people began to look one way and come towards the
rails, and a buzz arose, "The Queen--the Queen!"
Adelaide turned just as the outriders were opposite to her. She saw the
dark claret-coloured carriage, fifty yards off, and she knew that Lady
Emily Montford, who had been her sister bridesmaid at Lady Hainault's
wedding, was in waiting that day. Hornby declares the whole thing was
done on purpose. Let us be more charitable, and suppose that her horse
was startled at the scarlet coats of the outriders; however it was, the
brute took fright, stood on its hind legs, and bolted straight towards
the royal carriage. She reined it up within ten feet of the carriage
step, plunging furiously. Raising her whip hand to push her hat more
firmly on, she knocked it off, and sat there bareheaded, with one loop
of her hair fallen down, a sight which no man who saw it ever forgot.
She saw a look of amazed admiration in the Queen's face. She saw Lady
Emily's look of gentle pity. She saw her Majesty lean forward, and ask
who it was. She saw her name pass Lady Emily's lips, and then she saw
the Queen turn with a frown, and look steadily the other way.
Wrath and rage were in her heart, and showed themselves one instant in
her face. A groom had run out and picked up her hat. She bent down to
take it from him, and saw that it was Charles Ravenshoe.
Her face grew soft again directly. Poor thing! she must have had a kind
heart after all, crusted over as it was with vanity, pride, and
selfishness. Now, in her anger and shame, she could have cried to see
her old love so degraded. There was no time for crying, or for saying
more than a few sharp words, for they were coming towards her.
"What nonsense is this, Charles?" she said. "What is this masquerade?
Are you come to double my shame? Go home and take that dress off and
burn it. Is your pride dead, that you disgrace yourself like this in
public? If you are desperate, as you seem, why are you not at the war?
They want desperate men there. Oh! if I was a man!"
They parted then! no one but Lord Welter and Hornby knew who Charles
was. The former saw that Adelaide had recognised him, and, as they rode
simply home together, said--
"I knew poor Charles was a groom. He saw his sister the other night at
our house. I didn't tell you; I hardly know why. I really believe, do
you know, that the truth of the matter is, Adelaide, that I did not want
to vex you. Now!"
He looked at her as if he thought she would disbelieve him, but she
said--
"Nay, I do believe you, Welter. You are not an ill-natured man, but you
are selfish and unprincipled. So am I, perhaps to a greater extent than
you. At what time is that fool of a German coming?"
"At half-past eleven."
"I must go to that woman Brittlejug's party. I must show there, to keep
friends with her. She has such a terrible tongue, I will be back by
twelve or so."
"I wish you could stay at home."
"I really dare not, my dear Welter. I must go. I will be back in good
time."
"Of course you will please yourself about it," said Lord Welter, a
thought sulkily. And, when he was by himself he said--
"She is going to see Charles Ravenshoe. Well, perhaps she ought. She
treated him d----d bad! And so did I."