SCENES IN FASHIONABLE LIFE.
Two months elapsed from the date of the preceding event.
It was now the commencement of March; and bleak winds had succeeded the
hoary snows of winter.
The scene changes to the house of Sir Rupert Harborough, in Tavistock
Square.
It was about one o'clock in the afternoon. The baronet was pacing the
drawing-room with uneven steps, while Lady Cecilia lounged upon the
sofa, turning over the pages of a new novel.
"Now this is most provoking, Cecilia," exclaimed the baronet: "I never
was so much in want of money in my life; and you refuse to adopt the
only means which----"
"Yes, Sir Rupert," interrupted the lady impatiently; "I refuse to give
you my diamonds to pledge again--and all your arguments shall never
persuade me to do so."
"Your heart is too good, Cecilia----"
"Oh! yes--you may try what coaxing will do; but I can assure you that I
am proof against both honied and bitter words. Neither will serve your
turn now."
"And yet, somehow or another, you _have_ the command of money, Cecilia,"
resumed the baronet, after a pause. "You paid all the tradesmen's bills
and servants' wages about two months ago: you found out--though God only
knows how--that Greenwood had the duplicate of your diamonds;--you
redeemed the ticket from him, and the jewels themselves from V----'s;
and from that moment you have never seemed embarrassed for a five-pound
note."
"All _that_ is perfectly true, Sir Rupert," said Lady Cecilia, blushing
slightly, and yet smiling archly,--and never did she seem more beautiful
than when the glow of shame thus mantled her cheek and poured flood of
light into those eyes that were so expressive of a voluptuous and
sensual nature.
"Well, then," continued the baronet, "if you can thus obtain supplies
for yourself, surely you can do something in the same way for me."
"I have no ready money at present," said Lady Cecilia; "and I have
determined not to part with my jewels. There!"
"Perhaps you think that I am fool enough to be the dupe of your
miserable and flimsy artifices, Cecilia?" cried the baronet impatiently:
"but I can tell you that I have seen through them all along."
"You!" ejaculated the lady, starting uneasily, while her heart
palpitated violently, and she felt that her cheeks were crimson.
"Yes--I, Lady Cecilia," answered the baronet. "I am not quite such a
fool as you take me for."
"My God, Sir Rupert! what--how--who-----" stammered the guilty wife, a
cold tremor pervading every limb, although her cheeks appeared to be on
fire.
"There! you see that all my suspicions are confirmed," cried the
baronet; "your confusion proves it."
"You cannot say that--that--I have ever given you any cause, Sir
Rupert----"
"What? to doubt your word? Oh! no--I can't say that you are in the habit
of telling falsehoods generally; but----"
"Sir Rupert!"
"Nay--I will speak out! The fact is, you pretend to have quarrelled with
Lady Tremordyn; and it is all nonsense. Your mother supplies you with as
much money as you require--and that is the secret!"
"Oh! Sir Rupert--Sir Rupert!" exclaimed Lady Cecilia, suddenly relieved
from a most painful state of apprehension, and now comprehending the
error under which he was labouring.
"You cannot deny what I affirm, Cecilia. And now that I bethink me, it
is most probable that Greenwood himself told Lord Tremordyn (with whom
he was intimate at that time, although they have since quarrelled, God
only knows what about) of my having placed the duplicate of the diamonds
in his hands, and so your father arranged that matter with Greenwood. It
is a gross system of duplicity, Cecilia--a gross system; a pretended
quarrel merely to prevent me from visiting at the house of my
father-in-law. But, by God! I will stand it no longer!"
"What will you do, then?" demanded Lady Cecilia, ironically.
"What will I do? I will go straight off to Lord and Lady Tremordyn, and
tell them my mind."
"And Lord and Lady Tremordyn will tell you theirs in return."
"And what can they say, madam, against me?"
"Nay--Sir Rupert, rather ask what they can say for you."
"Oh! you wish to irritate me, madam--you are anxious to quarrel with
me," cried the baronet.--"Well--be it so! As for your father and mother,
I will tell them that they do not act honourably, nor even prudently,
in allowing their son-in-law to live by his wits and be compelled to
raise money where he can."
"And they will tell you in reply, that you did not act honourably nor
prudently to squander the large sum they gave you when you married their
daughter."
"The devil they will!" exclaimed the baronet. "Then, in that case, I
shall remind them of the consideration for which the large sum you
allude to was given."
"Monster--coward!" cried Lady Cecilia: "do you dare to throw in my teeth
the weakness of which I was guilty through excess of love for you?"
"I am sure you need not be so fastidious, Cecilia. To talk of love now,
between a man of the world like me and a woman of the world like you, is
an absurdity;--and as for the little weakness of which you speak, I
repaired it."
"Yes," said the lady, bitterly. "When you saw me kneeling in despair at
your feet--and when my mother implored you to save her daughter's
honour, you turned a deaf ear to our entreaties--you scorned our
prayers: but when my father offered a golden argument----"
"Lady Cecilia--silence, I command you!"
"When he offered a golden argument, I say," continued the lady, with
withering scorn, "--when he produced his cheque-book, Sir Rupert
Harborough pretended to yield to my entreaties; and as he raised me from
the ground--condescendingly raised me--me, the daughter of a peer--with
one hand,--with the other he clutched the bribe! Ah! Sir Rupert--you
spoilt a good heart--you trampled a confiding disposition in the
dust--when you would not allow yourself to be purchased by my love, but
still consented to sell yourself to me for my father's gold! Oh! it was
the vile instance of a man prostituting himself for gain, as poor weak
woman has so often been doomed to do!"
"Lady Cecilia--I am astonished--I am amazed at the terms in which you
allow yourself to address me!" said Sir Rupert Harborough, humiliated
and put to shame by these words of keenly cutting satire.
"And now," continued the indignant lady,--"now you solicit me to ruin
myself for you--to part with my very ornaments to supply your
extravagances,--you, who had no pity upon my tears, no feeling for my
anguish, no respect for my honour! No, Sir Rupert Harborough: I have
assisted you once--assisted you twice--assisted you thrice--assisted you
a hundred times already; and what return have you made me? When you are
penniless, you remain at home: when you are in the possession of funds,
you remain absent for weeks and weeks together. You may love me no
longer, it is true;--and, with regard to myself, I confess that your
conduct has long--long ago destroyed all the romance of affection in my
bosom. Still a woman cannot endure neglect--at least I thought so a few
months ago;--but now--_now,_" she added emphatically, as her thoughts
wandered to Greenwood, "I am indifferent alike as to your attention or
your neglect!"
"At least, Lady Cecilia, you are candid and explicit," said Sir Rupert,
biting his lips. "But perhaps you have something more to observe."
"No--nothing," answered the lady coldly; and, with these words, she rose
and left the room.
Not many minutes had elapsed since the termination of this "scene," when
Mr. Chichester was announced.
"Well, what news with the old man?" demanded the baronet hastily.
"My father will not advance me another shilling until June," answered
Chichester, throwing himself upon the sofa; "and as for your bill--he
won't look at it. Any thing good with you?"
"Nothing. Lady Cecilia positively refuses to part with the jewels
again," said the baronet, stamping his foot with rage.
"And can't you----"
"Can't I what?"
"Can't you help yourself to them in spite of her?" demanded Chichester.
"Impossible!" returned Harborough. "She keeps them under lock and key in
her own room; and the door of that room she always locks when she goes
out."
"How provoking! If we only had some ready money at this moment,"
observed Chichester, "we might make a little fortune."
"Yes--town is full--and such opportunities as we might have! By Jove, we
_must_ raise the wine somewhere."
"You do not think that Greenwood----"
"Oh! no--not for a moment!" cried the baronet, turning very pale as the
idea of the forged acceptance of Lord Tremordyn, which would be due in
another month, flashed across his mind: "no--I cannot apply to Greenwood
for a shilling."
"And after all the pains I have taken in perfecting you in the new
dodges with the cards and dice, ready for this season," said Mr.
Chichester, in a most lachrymose tone; then, taking a small parcel from
his pocket, he continued, "Here are the implements we want, too: every
thing prepared--except the money."
"Ah!" exclaimed the baronet, "you have got the things, then, at last?"
[Illustration]
"Yes," returned Chichester, opening the parcel and displaying its
contents upon the table. "Here are the _scratched dice,_ you see. These
must be used upon a bare table, because it is necessary to judge by the
sound of the dice in the box whether they are on the scratched side or
not. You understand that a hole has been drilled in the centre pip of
the five in this die, and in the ace of the other; a piece of ebony is
then inserted, with a very small portion projecting. These dice cannot,
therefore, fall perfectly flat, when the five side of the one and the
ace of the other are underneath on the table; and it is very easy for
the thrower just to move the box the least thing before he lifts it, to
that the sound may tell him whether the scratched side is down or not.
But you are to recollect that a man must be very drunk when you can use
them with any degree of safety."
"I should think so, indeed," said Sir Rupert.
"I can assure you that no implements of our craft are, on certain
occasions, more destructive than these," observed Chichester.
"And what is the use of these slight scratches upon the dice?"
"To assist the eye in manipulating them. But here," continued
Chichester, holding up a dice-box, and surveying it with a species of
paternal admiration,--"here is a famous antidote to fair dice. Don't
you see that when fair dice are used, you must introduce an unfair box.
Many a greenhorn may have heard of loaded dice, and so on; but very few
know that there is such a thing as the _Doctor Dice-box_. Honour to the
man, say I, who invented it. If you judge by the outside of this box, it
is a very fair-looking one; but just put your finger into it, and you
will feel that no less than three-quarters of the inside are filled up,
so that there is now only just space enough left in the middle for the
dice to fit in. Towards the top the sides grow larger and smoother. The
dice, you see, rattle by rising up and down, when shaken briskly, but do
not change their position. All that you have to do is to put them in, in
the first instance, with a view to the way in which you want them to
come up."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
"So that if you want to throw a six and a five, put the dice into the
box with the ace and the two uppermost," said the baronet.
[Illustration]
"Precisely," answered Chichester. "A fair box, you know as well as I do,
has one or more rims inside, against which the dice must turn in coming
out."
"By the bye," said the baronet, "what is the _Gradus_, Chichester? you
promised to show me a great many times, and have forgotten it; but now
that we are upon the subject, you may as well enlighten me."
"Certainly, my dear fellow," returned this very complacent Mentor; then,
taking up a pack of cards, he said, "nothing is more easy than the
_Gradus,_ or _Step_. It is often much safer than _Bridging_, too.
_Bridging_ is known by every snob about town who pretends to set up for
a _Greek_. All that you have to do for the _Gradus_ is to let any
particular card you fancy project a little in this way, so as to make
sure that your opponent will turn it up, at whist or ecarté, as the case
may be."
[Illustration]
"Excellent! I like the plan better than any other you ever yet showed me
for effecting the same object."
"_Palming_ may sometimes be done successfully," continued Chichester:
"but you must have the small French cards to do it. There--all that
there is to do is to secrete a particular card under the palm and
partially up the sleeve till it is required. When your opponent is well
primed, you can easily introduce _a fifth king_, or _fifth ace_, in this
way. There is a great deal of art, too, in shuffling, or _Weaving_. At
ecarté or whist, always watch which tricks taken up have the best cards;
then, when you take up all the cards to shuffle them again, _weave_ in
the good tricks to suit your purposes."
"I heard a gentleman say the other night," observed the baronet, "that
he had been most gloriously fleeced by a fellow who used _pricked
cards_."
"Ah! they are capital weapons," exclaimed Chichester. "Just lay the high
cards flat on their backs, and then prick them with a very fine needle,
so as to raise the slightest possible pimple in the world upon the backs
down in one of the corners; but mind, the cards are not to be punctured
quite through. The fellow who told me how to do this dodge, used some
chemical preparation to the ball of his thumb, which made that part
almost raw, and consequently so very sensitive that he could feel the
smallest possible pimple on the card with the greatest ease."
"And what have you got there?" demanded Sir Rupert, pointing to a pack
of cards which Chichester had just taken from his parcel.
"These are _Reflectors_," replied the Mentor. "They are French cards,
you perceive, and are only manufactured in France. They cost two guineas
a pack; but then--only think of their utility! Look at the backs of
these cards: instead of being plain, they are figured. Now this to a
common observer is nothing, most of the French cards being, you know,
variegated with flowers or other designs at the back. But to the
initiated, the lines upon these cards are every thing. Mark how they
run. All the high cards have semicircles in the corners, while all the
low cards have the ends of the lines meeting in the corners. Then, by a
more minute study still of these cards, it is easy to know kings,
queens, knaves, and aces, by the manner in which the lines run upon the
back. I hope these weapons are dangerous enough for you."
[Illustration]
"They are decidedly the most efficient I have yet seen," answered the
baronet. "I think we now know all the mysteries of the gaming world;
and, considering how many _flats_ there are in London and the watering
places, it would be astonishing indeed if we could not pick up a
handsome living."
"Of course it would," said Mr. Chichester. "The mania for play is most
extraordinary. The moment a young man enters upon life, he fancies that
it is very fine to frequent gambling-houses or lose his loose gold at
private play: indeed he imagines that he cannot be a _man of the world_
without it. There is our advantage. That anxiety to be looked upon as _a
fine dashing fellow_ is the real cause of the immense increase of gaming
propensities. Young men do not begin to play in the first instance
because they like it: they commence, simply to gratify their vanity; and
then they imbibe the taste and acquire the habit. What they began
through pride, they continue through love. There, again, I say, is our
pull:--there always will be flats ready to throw themselves head and
shoulders into the nets that sharps spread out for them."
"All that is very true, Chichester," said the baronet. "But we don't
want a homily on the vice of gambling this afternoon: what we require is
the needful to enable us to put our plans into execution. The old tricks
that you taught me more than three years ago in that very respectable
lodging which you occupied in Bartholomew Close, are well-nigh worn out:
we have now studied fresh ones;--but we are totally deficient in the
steam to set our new engines in motion."
Chichester was about to reply when a carriage drove up to the front
door, and Mr. Greenwood alighted.