It was a proud time for the MC, and he knew how it would be canvassed in
Saltinville. All the principal people would have honoured his little
home, and in the future he saw his fees and offerings doubled, and
Claire well married--to Lord Carboro'. No, he could not say that,
though the bait was glittering still before his eyes.
He was in the drawing-room waiting, with pretty May smiling out of her
curls, hanging in her tawdry frame upon the wall; but Claire was not yet
down.
If she would only forget that night and not avoid him as she did, how
much less difficult this burden would be to bear.
He rang, and Isaac, in a new suit of livery, appeared.
"Send word to your mistress that it is time she was down, Isaac."
"Yes, sir."
"Is everything ready?"
"Yes, sir."
"The cards on the tables?"
"Yes, sir."
"And the refreshments?"
"Yes, sir."
"You will ask Lady Drelincourt's servant to stop and help wait."
"Yes, sir."
"And the Earl of Carboro's."
"Yes, sir."
"Perhaps it would be as well to keep Mr Burnett's man also."
"Yes, sir."
"I need say no more, Isaac, only that you will see that the tea and
coffee are hot, and that the refreshments in the dining-room are ready
in relays."
"Yes, sir; everything shall be done, sir; and would you mind casting
your eye over that, sir?"
"Certainly, I will do so, Isaac. Hem! An account, Isaac?"
"Yes, sir--wages, sir; and if you would make it convenient--"
"My good Isaac," said the MC blandly, "as you must be aware, gentlemen
are in the habit sometimes of taking rather long credit, and of often
being in debt. I might cite to you His Royal Highness. But no one
troubles thereon, because it is well known that sooner or later His
Royal Highness will pay his debts."
"Yes, sir; of course, sir; but wages, sir--"
"Are wanted, Isaac, of course. Now, my good Isaac, you must have seen
how much occupied I have been of late. No: say no more now. I will
look over your statement, and you shall be paid."
A tremendous knock and ring cut short this little scene, and Denville
wiped the dew from his face as he uttered a low sigh of relief.
"She will come down now.--Ah, my dear Mrs Barclay; my dear Barclay.
Delighted to see you both."
"I say, Denville, old fellow, you're going it, eh?"
"My dear Barclay, a sheer necessity. You see how I have placed my son."
"Umph! yes," said the money-lender, with a chuckle; "but I'm no better
off. You are. One less to keep, but at my expense."
"But, my dear Barclay--"
"All, it's all very well, but you came to me to find the money for his
outfit."
"Now, look here, Jo-si-ah," cried Mrs Barclay, who was a wonder of
satin, feathers, and jewellery, "Mr Denville has been kind enough to
ask us to his party, and I will not have another word said about bills
and money. I've come to enjoy myself, and I mean to. There!"
"Bless the woman!" sighed Denville.
"And where's Miss Claire? Oh, here she is. Oh, my dear, how lovable
you look in your plain pearl satin. Oh, I never did! Only oughtn't you
to have a necklace on? I say, take me to your room, and let me lend you
mine."
She placed her plump hand upon a magnificent ruby necklet that she wore,
but Claire checked her.
"No, no, no, Mrs Barclay," she whispered.
"Well, p'raps you're right, my dear. Nothing wouldn't make you look
better."
"Let me compliment you too, Miss Denville," said Barclay in his brusque
way; and, after a smile and a few words, he turned back to talk to his
host.
"I say, Denville--why, it was in that back room that--why, you've made
it into a back drawing-room."
"For God's sake, Barclay!"
Denville caught at his visitor's arm, and looked at him in a ghastly
way.
"Eh? Why, you look scared. Ah, well, it was stupid to mention it at a
time like this. Mustn't allude to it when they are all here, eh?"
"For heaven's sake, no."
"All right, I won't. I say, Denville, what do you think of that?"
He drew a case from his pocket, opened it, and displayed a necklace of
large single diamonds, the sight of which made the MC start and shiver.
"Magnificent!" he faltered.
"I should think they are. All choice picked stones, sir. Belonged to a
Countess."
"To a Countess?" said Denville, in a faltering voice.
"Yes, sir. I say, your bread's beginning to be buttered thick. Look
here."
He drew out another case as they stood alone in the front room.
"There's a set of pearls, sir. There's lustre and regularity. Two
fifty guineas, Denville."
"But, my dear Barclay," said the host, striving to recover his
equanimity, "why have you brought those here?"
"Why have I brought 'em? Don't you know? Well, I'll tell you. Old
Carboro' wants to pay a delicate attention to a lady he admires, and he
bade me bring two or three things here to choose from. I mean to sell
old Drelincourt the one he does not take. Look, I've two more lots."
"But, my dear Barclay, surely you will not attempt to sell or barter
here--in my house," said Denville piteously.
"Not try? Oh, won't I, though! Why, my dear Denville, you don't
suppose I came to waste time, do you? Not I."
There was an announcement here, and Denville had to hide the feeling of
annoyance mingled with pleasure that came upon him, for there could be
no doubt in his own mind for whom the jewels were intended.
How would Claire treat the offer?
The guests began to arrive fast now, and the shabbiness of the
candle-decked room was soon turned into a suitably subdued setting to
the rich dresses which Mrs Barclay scanned in turn, and decided were
not so good as her own.
The incident about the jewels troubled Denville more and more, and he
found himself glancing from time to time at the beautiful woman in her
simple, pearl-tinted satin, who was doing the honours of his house so
gracefully.
"Yes," he sighed, "worthy to be a Countess, but--" He drew his breath
hard. Poor as he was, it seemed too terrible a sacrifice.
Then the temptation came upon him very strongly again. Rich, admired,
beautiful, an enviable position; and, once she was married, the terrible
disclosure that would some day perhaps come would not affect her.
"Colonel Mellersh; Mr Richard Linnell," announced Isaac; and a feeling
of jealous anger against the young man he had been obliged to invite
came over him, but had to be hidden by a smile as the two new-comers
advanced to Claire.
Denville watched them keenly; but Claire's face was as calm as if they
had been total strangers. She gave them both a most courteous greeting.
That was all.
"Lord Carboro'," announced Isaac.
There was a little excitement here, as the wealthy old beau entered,
looking very keen and sharp, but very old; and as Denville saw him take
Claire's hand, the feeling of elation was swept away by a cold,
despairing chill. It was impossible.
And yet, as his lordship stood chatting to the beautiful girl, Denville
noticed that there was a change in her. She seemed brighter and more
animated. She smiled at the old man's remarks, and once more the
impossible seemed to be growing possible, for Claire was only a woman,
after all.
Colonel Mellersh saw this too, and half sneeringly turned to Richard
Linnell.
"There," he said, "much good you've done by making me bring you. I
believe your syren has captivated old Carboro'."
"Just look at the old man," whispered Mrs Barclay to her husband.
"Why, I declare, he's quite gallant."
"Hold your tongue, and don't you let it go, old woman. Here he is."
"Pinch of your snuff, Barclay," said the old dandy, coming up smiling.
"My compliments to you, Mrs Barclay. You look charming."
"Oh, my lord!" said Mrs Barclay, rising to curtsey, and saying to
herself, "As if I didn't know better than that."
"I can't think what you were about to marry such an ugly old scoundrel
as Barclay here. Have you brought anything?"
He took Barclay's arm, and they walked into the back drawing-room, where
there were a couple of card-tables.
"Dick," said Colonel Mellersh, "old Carboro's going to borrow money, or
else--by Jove, he's getting a present from him for your beloved."
"I thought you were my friend, Mellersh," said Linnell, with his brow
knitting.
"So I am. Look."
"I am not a spy," said Linnell coldly, and he turned away.
"What have you brought?" said Lord Carboro'.
"These diamonds, my lord, this string of pearls, and a large diamond
bracelet. Look at these diamonds, my lord--"
"Don't talk. I don't want everybody to see. Lay them on the table.
No: show me the pearls."
"They are perfect, my lord, and--"
"Hold your tongue, man. That will do."
"I'll slip out this bracelet, my lord. No; I'll go and give it to my
wife. She shall put it on, and you can go and talk to her, and see how
beautiful it is in design."
"Hold your tongue, man. The pearls will do. How much?"
"Three hundred guineas, my lord. They are--"
"Bah! Robbery! I'll give you two hundred down. Do you think I want
credit?"
"But, my lord, I should lose heavily."
"And a doosid good thing too, Barclay. You want bleeding. Am I to have
them?"
"Two fifty, my lord, as you are so old a friend."
"Two hundred--in an instant. Yes, or no?"
"Well, yes, my lord."
"Give me another pinch of snuff, Barclay, and hold the pearls in your
hand. Never mind the case. Thanks, that will do. Come for the money
in the morning."
The exchange was ingeniously effected, but Colonel Mellersh saw it, and
his lips tightened as he glanced at Richard Linnell.
"He's got the pearls, old woman," said Barclay, going back to his wife
where she sat fanning herself, and alone.
"How much?"
"Two hundred guineas."
"Let's see; you gave the Hon. Mrs Bedam fifty for 'em, didn't you,
Josiah?"
"Yes; but they're worth a hundred, honestly."
"And is he going to give 'em to Claire?"
"Don't know. Wait."
"Lady Drelincourt, Sir Matthew Bray, Colonel Lascelles," announced
Isaac; and, before the small talk was half over, he shouted again: "Sir
Harry Payne, Major Rockley, Mr Morton Denville."
Richard Linnell told himself that he was no spy, but he could not keep
his eyes from the group, as the officers entered, and were received by
Claire.
It was a crucial meeting, but she bore it well, bowing rather stiffly to
Major Rockley as he advanced in a deprecating way; and he was evidently
about to stay by her side, but Isaac announced:
"Mrs and Miss Dean."
There was a little buzz of excitement.
"Mrs Pontardent."
This lady meant to be before her _protegees_; but she was in time after
all, and after a quiet, unaffected welcome from Claire, they formed a
little group by themselves, about whom, like flies attracted by bright
colours, the officers buzzed.
Mrs Pontardent was a tall, good-looking, lady-like woman, who
patronised the Master of the Ceremonies when they spoke, and
complimented him upon the appearance of "his little girl."
"You must bring her to one of my evenings, Denville."
He would have said "Impossible" had he dared. As it was, he said he
should be charmed, and this set him thinking about how much money was
won and lost there, when fresh arrivals took up his attention, and soon
after Isaac announced:
"Mr and Mrs Frank Burnett."
Claire uttered a sigh of relief as she shook hands with her sister and
brother-in-law, the latter pairing off directly with one of the
officers.
"Well," said May eagerly, "is all right?"
"Yes, dear; but they want money, and I have none."
"Oh, dear, money again! Well, I'll see."
"But, May dear, you must do something more."
"What do you mean?"
"This task grows more difficult every day. You must really make some
arrangements, or I shall be compromised."
"Well, how shall I be? do you want me to be compromised? I declare you
have no more feeling than a stone."
"May--dear May!"
"It's quite true. I'm disgraced by my family at every turn. What with
brothers turning common soldiers, and horrors in the house, and--"
"My dear Mrs Burnett, this is an unexpected pleasure," said Sir Harry
Payne, coming up with Lord Carboro', who managed to cut in before
Rockley, who was approaching Claire.
"Oh, what a wicked, wicked story-teller you are!" said May, with
childish playfulness, as Sir Harry remained by her side, while Lord
Carboro' led off Claire. "You knew I was coming."
"I did, I did," he whispered passionately.
"Hush! Don't go on like that. Everybody is watching us."
"Then when will you give me a chance to see you alone?"
"Oh, I couldn't think of such a thing."
"May! dearest May."
"Hush!"
The conversation was carried on in a low tone, and then May exclaimed:
"Oh, impossible!"
"It is not," he said eagerly. "It is simplicity itself."
He whispered again, and May Burnett shook her head.
"I implore you," he whispered. "You know all I feel, but you are as
hard and cold as you are beautiful. There, I swear if you do not
consent, I'll--"
"Pistols, or off the pier?" said May, with a provoking smile.
"Oh, you are maddening!" he exclaimed. "I believe you would like to see
me lying dead."
"Oh, no; I don't like to see dead people," she said mockingly.
"All these weary months, and not one short interview. You are playing
with me. Curse him!"
"Curse whom?" said May coolly.
"That husband of yours. I'll pick a quarrel with him next time we play
cards and shoot him."
"Ha--ha--ha--ha--ha!"
It was a sweetly innocent sounding little trill of laughter as ever
passed from a provoking pouting rosebud of a mouth; and Claire heard it,
and turned paler than ordinary, as she saw in whose company her sister
was.
"You will excuse me now, Lord Carboro'," she said. "I have my duties as
hostess to attend to."
"One moment," he said, placing his back to the company, and gazing with
a look of such reverence as he had not for long years felt for woman in
the sweet face before him.
Claire looked up at him half wonderingly.
"I am a very old friend of your father, Miss Denville."
"Oh, yes, my lord. I remember you when I was quite a little child."
"And now," he said, "I am getting to be an old man, and you have grown
into a beautiful woman. Will you--do not be alarmed; no one can see--
will you accept this little offering from so old a friend, and wear it
for his sake?"
He held out the lustrous necklace as he spoke, believing that they were
quite unseen; but it was not so, for Colonel Mellersh said softly to
Linnell:
"There, Dick, what did I tell you?"
"Lord Carboro'," said Claire, with quiet dignity, "I could only take so
valuable a jewel from--from--"
"A very dear friend, my child. Let me be that friend."
She looked at him searchingly, and then dropped her eyes, saying
nothing, but drawing back with a slight gesture that was unmistakable,
and glided away.
"The mentor is not always right, Colonel Mellersh," said Richard Linnell
quietly. "I feel as if I had been playing the spy, but I do not regret
it, from the effect it must have on you."
"Egad, she's a very queen," said Lord Carboro', as he quietly took out
his snuff-box, and dropped the necklet into his pocket. "By George,
sir, I never thought there was such a woman in the world."
The conversation was at its height, and Claire twice over managed to
intercept Sir Harry when he was approaching her sister, but only to be
snubbed for her pains by May. She was conscious that Rockley was
seeking an opportunity to approach her, but she gave him none, her
position as hostess giving her plenty of chances for avoiding those she
did not wish to meet, in attending and introducing others.
"Hang the girl! she's a regular sorceress," said Colonel Mellersh to
himself. "She'll end by charming me. I want a game at cards, and if I
leave Dick, he'll be hanging on to her strings directly."
"Well, mother, are you satisfied?" said Cora, as the evening went by.
"Satisfied? Oh, I don't mind, my dear, so long as you get on. And you
are, you know, sitting here among the big people, I say, Cory, I am
proud of you."
"That's right, mother."
"But I say, what did Colonel Mellersh say to you as he went to the
card-table?"
"Asked me, as any gentleman would, whether he should take me down to
have some refreshment."
"Well, that was kind and neighbourly. I rather like him, but I do wish
you wouldn't encourage that young Linnell so."
"Mother!"
"There, I've done. I won't say another word. Don't fly out at me here.
Now, that is a man to admire."
"What, Mr Richard Linnell?"
"No: stuff, Cory. You know who I mean--that Major Rockley. I couldn't
hear a word he said to you. I wouldn't, for I don't like to stand in
your way. I say, Cory, he'll be a Colonel and a General some day. Why
not him?"
"Would you like to know what he said to me, mother?"
"Yes; he did quite make love to you, didn't he?"
"Yes."
"Hah, I thought so."
Mrs Dean's rings crackled as she rubbed her hands, and metaphorically
hugged herself.
"That comes of getting into good society, Cora. Ladies drop into
engagements without having to look after the gentlemen. You see, they
are so brought together like. That Denville puts a sort of stamp on you
like, and then you're in society, and handsome Majors come and throw
themselves at your feet."
"Yes," said Cora, speaking through her teeth, "and insult you, and dare
to speak to you as if you were some beautiful toy brought and set up for
their amusement."
"Cory!"
"I tell you that every word he spoke to me in his mocking gallant way
was an insult, and made my fingers tingle and my face burn. Mother,
I've found out that there are two classes of men in the world."
"Oh, my gracious! now she's off again," sighed Mrs Dean.
"There are those who naturally honour and respect woman with all the
manly chivalry of their nature, and those who look upon her as a being
several degrees lower than themselves. Mother, that man made me feel
to-night as if I could kill him."
"Oh dear; oh dear!" sighed Mrs Dean in a whisper to her daughter, "if
this is coming into society, and you are going on talking in that savage
way, we had better stop at home. I expect you snubbed the Major in that
orty way of yours, and he has gone after that chit of Denville's."
"Where? Has he mother?" cried Cora, in an excited whisper.
"Yes; he is bending over her and making big eyes at her. I say, he is a
handsome man, Cory, and if I know anything, he's regularly took with
her."
"Are you sure, mother?"
"Sure? Just as if I couldn't tell in a moment. You might get him away
from her if you liked, I dare say. Look at that."
She drew back a little that her child might see where Rockley was
speaking in a markedly deferential manner to Claire; and Cora's colour
went and came, and her bosom heaved in unison.
"Bless your 'art, Cory, I ain't lived to my age without picking up a
little. Why, since I've been sitting here to-night I've picked up no
end, and if I was a scandalous old woman I could make any amount of
mischief."
Cora did not answer, for just then Lord Carboro' came up.
"Let me take you down to have a jelly, Miss Dean," he said.
Cora looked up at him and was about to refuse; but there was such a
quiet, respectful look in the old man's eyes that she took his arm.
"I'll come and fetch you afterwards, Mrs Dean," he said and they
crossed the room.
"There," said Mrs Dean. "Now I'm a happy woman. It might be after
all. Countess--not a Shakespeare countess or duchess for six nights
only, as it says in the bills, but altogether. Hah, I paid for this
party, and I don't grudge the money, and Denville's made himself a
friend. I was going to say to my gal: there's that Sir Matthew Bray
making up to old Lady Drelincourt, and that Sir Harry Payne to Mrs
Burnett, and Major Rockley to Claire Denville, and young Linnell as
jealous as can be. And now, to top off with and finish the scene, Lord
Carboro' comes and takes off my Cora. Well, we're in society at last."
"Look here, old woman, this bracelet case is banging against my leg
horribly, and if I have two things old Drelincourt will hesitate between
them and take neither. If I've only one she may take it. I think I can
get her alone now. Here, slip this into your pocket."
"Oh, but Jo-si-ah, I can't."
"Yes, you can, stupid; you've got lots of room. Here, I want to clear
my expenses to-night."
"Why, you have, Jo-si-ah."
"Pooh! That's nothing. Here, catch hold."
He slipped the case into his wife's hand, and she took it and passed it
under a fold of her satin dress.
Barclay strolled away to try and get hold of Lady Drelincourt, and just
then Denville came up.
"My dear Mrs Barclay," he said, "you have been sitting all alone so
long, and I could not get to you, and poor Claire is so busy."
"Oh, don't you mind me, Mr Denville. I'm nobody."
"But you must be faint."
"Well, since you put it like that, Mr Denville, I really have got such
a dreadful feeling of sinking inside me that if it was only a sangwidge
and a glass of sherry, I'd say bless you."
"Come then, my dear madam," said Denville. "This way."
She rose and took the offered arm, and Lord Carboro' smiled as the
florid little woman went by him. Then he drew back by a curtain, and
began taking snuff and watching Claire, as she now stood still, and he
saw her meet Linnell's eyes just as Rockley, who had been watching his
opportunity, was going up to her.
Linnell looked at her with eyes that said, "May I come?" and he read
that long, calm, trustful gaze to say "Yes."
"Very nicely done. In a sweet maidenly way," said Lord Carboro'. "How
cleverly a woman can do that sort of thing, making one man a shield
against another. By George! she is a queen--a woman of whom a man might
be proud."
Rockley went scowling back, and threw himself on the seat where Mrs
Barclay had been; and from where he stood Lord Carboro' looked at him
sneeringly.
"Old, worn out, withered as I am, handsome Rockley, if Claire Denville
became my wife, I shouldn't care a snap for you. Ugh! why, I must be
standing just where old Teigne was smothered. How horrible! Pish, what
matters! Why should I care, when her dear sister is laughing and
showing her false teeth there just where the foot of the bedstead used
to be. Sweet girlish creature; she's ogling that fat dragoon, and
she'll marry him if she can."
He took another pinch of snuff.
"Hallo!" he muttered, "Payne after that little strawberry cream of a
woman. We shall have a scandal there, as sure as fate, and--good girl,
she sees through her and cuts the enemy out. Claire, my dear, you are
indeed a little queen among women. I've never given you half the credit
you deserve, and--damme!--never!--yes--no--yes!--the scoundrel! Well,
that comes of reckless play. Curse it all, there must not be such a
scandal as this. Where's Denville?"
He looked round, but the Master of the Ceremonies had not returned with
Mrs Barclay.
Everybody was fully engaged, laughing, flirting, or card-playing.
Assignations were being made; money was changing hands, and the candles
were burning down and guttering at the sides, as Lord Carboro'
exclaimed:
"Hang it! I did not think he could stoop to be such a scoundrel as
that!"
Volume Two, Chapter XIII.