Lord Gerald in Further Trouble
When Silverbridge got back to the house he was by no means well
pleased with himself. In the first place he was unhappy to think that
Mabel was unhappy, and that he had made her so. And then she had told
him that he would not have dared to have acted as he had done, but
that her father and her brother were careless to defend her. He had
replied fiercely that a legion of brothers, ready to act on her
behalf, would not have altered his conduct; but not the less did he
feel that he had behaved badly to her. It could not now be altered.
He could not now be untrue to Isabel. But certainly he had said a
word or two to Mabel which he could not remember without regret. He
had not thought that a word from him could have been so powerful.
Now, when that word was recalled to his memory by the girl to whom it
had been spoken, he could not quite acquit himself.
And Mabel had declared to him that she would at once appeal to his
father. There was an absurdity in this at which he could not but
smile,--that the girl should complain to his father because he would
not marry her! But even in doing this she might cause him great
vexation. He could not bring himself to ask her not to tell her story
to the Duke. He must take all that as it might come.
While he was thinking of all this in his own room a servant brought
him two letters. From the first which he opened he soon perceived
that it contained an account of more troubles. It was from his
brother Gerald, and was written from Auld Reikie, the name of a house
in Scotland belonging to Lord Nidderdale's people.
DEAR SILVER,
I have got into a most awful scrape. That fellow Percival
is here, and Dolly Longstaff, and Nidderdale, and
Popplecourt, and Jack Hindes, and Perry who is in the
Coldstreams, and one or two more, and there has been a lot
of cards, and I have lost ever so much money. I wouldn't
mind it so much but Percival has won it all,--a fellow
I hate; and now I owe him--three thousand four hundred
pounds! He has just told me he is hard up and that he
wants the money before the week is over. He can't be hard
up because he has won from everybody;--but of course I had
to tell him that I would pay him.
Can you help me? Of course I know that I have been a fool.
Percival knows what he is about and plays regularly for
money. When I began I didn't think that I could lose above
twenty or thirty pounds. But it got on from one thing to
another, and when I woke this morning I felt I didn't know
what to do with myself. You can't think how the luck went
against me. Everybody says that they never saw such cards.
And now do tell me how I am to get out of it. Could you
manage it with Mr. Moreton? Of course I will make it all
right with you some day. Moreton always lets you have
whatever you want. But perhaps you couldn't do this
without letting the governor know. I would rather anything
than that. There is some money owing at Oxford also, which
of course he must know.
I was thinking that perhaps I might get it from some of
those fellows in London. There are people called Comfort
and Criball, who let men have money constantly. I know two
or three up at Oxford who have had it from them. Of course
I couldn't go to them as you could do, for, in spite of
what the governor said to us up in London one day, there
is nothing that must come to me. But you could do anything
in that way, and of course I would stand to it.
I know you won't throw me over, because you always have
been such a brick. But above all things don't tell the
governor. Percival is such a nasty fellow, otherwise I
shouldn't mind it. He spoke this morning as though I was
treating him badly,--though the money was only lost last
night; and he looked at me in a way that made me long to
kick him. I told him not to flurry himself, and that he
should have his money. If he speaks to me like that again
I will kick him.
I will be at Matching as soon as possible, but I cannot go
till this is settled. Nid--[meaning Lord Nidderdale]--is a
brick.
Your affectionate Brother,
GERALD.
The other was from Nidderdale, and referred to the same subject.
DEAR SILVERBRIDGE,
Here has been a terrible nuisance. Last night some of
the men got to playing cards, and Gerald lost a terribly
large sum to Percival. I did all that I could to stop it,
because I saw that Percival was going in for a big thing.
I fancy that he got as much from Dolly Longstaff as he did
from Gerald;--but it won't matter much to Dolly; or if it
does, nobody cares. Gerald told me he was writing to you
about it, so I am not betraying him.
What is to be done? Of course Percival is behaving badly.
He always does. I can't turn him out of the house, and he
seems to intend to stick to Gerald till he has got the
money. He has taken a cheque from Dolly dated two months
hence. I am in an awful funk for fear Gerald should pitch
into him. He will, in a minute, if anything rough is said
to him. I suppose the straightest thing would be to go to
the Duke at once, but Gerald won't hear of it. I hope you
won't think me wrong to tell you. If I could help him I
would. You know what a bad doctor I am for that sort of
complaint.
Yours always,
NIDDERDALE.
The dinner-bell had rung before Silverbridge had come to an end of
thinking of this new vexation, and he had not as yet made up his mind
what he had better do for his brother. There was one thing as to
which he was determined,--that it should not be done by him, nor,
if he could prevent it, by Gerald. There should be no dealings with
Comfort and Criball. The Duke had succeeded, at any rate, in filling
his son's mind with a horror of aid of that sort. Nidderdale had
suggested that the "straightest" thing would be to go direct to the
Duke. That no doubt would be straight,--and efficacious. The Duke
would not have allowed a boy of his to be a debtor to Lord Percival
for a day, let the debt have been contracted how it might. But
Gerald had declared against this course,--and Silverbridge himself
would have been most unwilling to adopt it. How could he have told
that story to the Duke, while there was that other infinitely more
important story of his own, which must be told at once?
In the midst of all these troubles he went down to dinner. "Lady
Mabel," said the Duke, "tells me that you two have been to see Sir
Guy's look-out."
She was standing close to the Duke and whispered a word into his ear.
"You said you would call me Mabel."
"Yes, sir," said Silverbridge, "and I have made up my mind that Sir
Guy never stayed there very long in winter. It was awfully cold."
"I had furs on," said Mabel. "What a lovely spot it is, even in this
weather." Then dinner was announced. She had not been cold. She could
still feel the tingling heat of her blood as she had implored him to
love her.
Silverbridge felt that he must write to his brother by the first
post. The communication was of a nature that would bear no delay.
If his hands had been free he would himself have gone off to Auld
Reikie. At last he made up his mind. The first letter he wrote was
neither to Nidderdale nor to Gerald, but to Lord Percival himself.
DEAR PERCIVAL,
Gerald writes me word that he has lost to you at cards
£3,400, and he wants me to get him the money. It is a
terrible nuisance, and he has been an ass. But of course
I shall stand to him for anything he wants. I haven't
got £3,400 in my pocket, and I don't know any one who
has;--that is among our set. But I send you my I.O.U. for
the amount, and will promise to get you the money in two
months. I suppose that will be sufficient, and that you
will not bother Gerald any more about it.
Yours truly,
SILVERBRIDGE.
Then he copied this letter and enclosed the copy in another which he
wrote to his brother.
DEAR GERALD,
What an ass you have been! But I don't suppose you are
worse than I was at Doncaster. I will have nothing to do
with such people as Comfort and Criball. That is the sure
way to the D----! As for telling Moreton, that is only
a polite and roundabout way of telling the governor. He
would immediately ask the governor what was to be done.
You will see what I have done. Of course I must tell the
governor before the end of February, as I cannot get the
money in any other way. But that I will do. It does seem
hard upon him. Not that the money will hurt him much; but
that he would so like to have a steady-going son.
I suppose Percival won't make any bother about the I.O.U.
He'll be a fool if he does. I wouldn't kick him if I were
you,--unless he says anything very bad. You would be sure
to come to grief somehow. He is a beast.
Your affectionate Brother,
SILVERBRIDGE.
With these letters that special grief was removed from his mind for
awhile. Looking over the dark river of possible trouble which seemed
to run between the present moment and the time at which the money
must be procured, he thought that he had driven off this calamity of
Gerald's to infinite distance. But into that dark river he must now
plunge almost at once. On the next day, he managed so that there
should be no walk with Mabel. In the evening he could see that the
Duke was uneasy;--but not a word was said to him. On the following
morning Lady Mabel took her departure. When she went from the door,
both the Duke and Silverbridge were there to bid her farewell. She
smiled and was as gracious as though everything had gone according
to her heart's delight. "Dear Duke, I am so obliged to you for your
kindness," she said, as she put up her cheek for him to kiss. Then
she gave her hand to Silverbridge. "Of course you will come and see
me in town." And she smiled upon them all;--having courage enough to
keep down all her sufferings.
"Come in here a moment, Silverbridge," said the father as they
returned into the house together. "How is it now between you and
her?"