Matters were not so pleasant, though, with the four occupants of the
dining-room as Humphrey Lloyd believed. Vanleigh had his skeleton in
the cupboard and was very impecunious; Sir Felix had wealth, but he was
constantly feeling that his friend Vanleigh was an incubus whom he would
give the world to shake off, but wanted the moral courage; Pratt
suffered from poverty, and now told himself that he must be bored by his
friend's affairs; lastly, Trevor had come down to his old home thinking
it would be a bower of roses, and it was as full of thorns, as it could
possibly be.
The dinner had been a failure. At every turn the influence of Mrs
Lloyd was perceptible, and proof given that so far she had been sole
mistress of the house.
"By the way, Vanleigh, try that claret," said Trevor, in the course of
the dinner. "Lloyd, the claret to Captain Vanleigh."
The Captain tasted it, and set down his glass.
Pratt took a glass, and made a point of drinking it.
Trevor saw there was something wrong.
"Bring me that claret," he said.
The butler poured him out a glass of very thin, poor wine.
Lloyd was then proceeding to fill Sir Felix's glass, but he declined.
"I thought we had some good old claret," said Trevor, fuming.
"Yes, sir," said the butler.
"Fetch a bottle directly," exclaimed Trevor. "Really, gentlemen, I am
very sorry," he continued, as the butler went out of the room. "It's a
mistake. Here, Robert, what champagne's that?"
The footman brought a bottle from the ice-pail.
"Why, confound it all!" cried Trevor, "I said the dry Clicquot was to be
brought--such fools!"
"Mr Lloyd did get out the Clicker, sir; but Mrs Lloyd said the second
best would do, sir," replied the footman, glad of an opportunity to
change the responsibility.
"Then all the wine is of the ordinary kind?" said Trevor.
"Yes, sir," said the footman.
"Look here, Lloyd," said Trevor, as the butler came into the room, "you
made a mistake about that claret. See that the other wine is right; and
if not, change it."
The butler looked aghast and hurried out, to return in a few minutes
with a basket of bottles, which he changed for those already in the
room.
Trevor said no more, but he was evidently making up his mind to suppress
the mutiny with a high hand on the morrow; for, as the dinner went on,
he became aware that in many little things his orders had been departed
from. There was a paucity of plate, when an abundance lay in the
chests; the dinner was good, by stretching a point, but not such as
would please men accustomed to the _chefs_ of Pall Mall; and when at
last the coffee was brought in it was of the most economical quality.
"There," said Trevor, "I'll set all right to-morrow, I'm very sorry,
Vanleigh; but things are all sixes and sevens here. Pratt, pass the
claret. Landells, try that port."
"Never drink port, dear boy," said the Baronet.
"Then let's go into the billiard-room; or what do you say, Van--would
you prefer my room and a rubber?"
"Don't much care for billiards to-night," said Vanleigh. "By the way,
though," he said, "will your estimable housekeeper permit smoking in the
dining-room."
"Oh, come, Van," said Sir Felix, "don't be hard on your host."
"Shall I ring for cigars, Dick?" said Pratt, reaching out his hand.
"Do, please," was the reply. "Smoke where you like, gentlemen, and make
yourselves at home. I don't want to be hard on the old people. You
see, it's a particular case. I've been away for years. I left a boy,
and they have had it all their own way. Oh, Lloyd, bring in the cigar
boxes, and brandy and soda."
"Here, sir?" said the butler, hesitating.
"Here? Yes, here directly," said Trevor; and he looked annoyed as he
caught a glance passing from Vanleigh to Sir Felix.
"It's all right, Dick," said Pratt. "It's a nice estate, but weedy.
Pull 'em up, one at a time."
"By the way, Van," said Sir Felix, "didn't tell Trevor of our 'venture."
"No," said Vanleigh, kicking at his friend beneath the table; "been so
taken up with other things. Brought home some neighbours of yours--
without leave--in the waggonette."
"Neighbours--without leave?" said Trevor, passing the claret. "We are
all ears."
"Some of us," muttered Pratt, glancing at Sir Felix, and then looking
perfectly innocent.
"Neighbours of yours--a Sir Hampton Court."
"No, no--Weir or Here, or name of that sort," said Sir Felix.
"Carriage broke down--two daughters--deuced fine girls, too."
"Vewy," said Sir Felix, arranging his gummy moustache.
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Trevor. "No one hurt?"
"Calm yourself, my friend," said Vanleigh, proceeding in a most
unruffled way. "The ladies were uninjured, and we--"
"Brought back--home," said Sir Felix, feebly.
"I'm heartily glad of it--I am, indeed," said Trevor, earnestly.
"Frank, old fellow, that will be an excuse for a call; and we can patch
up the encounter. We were both horribly hot."
"Fever heat?" said Pratt.
"Yes, and I daresay the old fellow's as sorry now as I am. I'll--Well,
Lloyd," he continued, as the butler came in, looking rather alarmed, and
rubbing his hands softly, "where are the cigars?"
"Mustn't smoke!" said Vanleigh, in a whisper to Sir Felix, but heard by
Pratt.
"If you please, sir, Mrs Lloyd thought you would like a fire in the
smoking-room, sir, and I've taken the cigars in there."
"Bring--"
Trevor caught Pratt's eye, and he checked himself.
"Lloyd," he said, very quietly. "I don't think you understand me yet.
Go and fetch those cigar boxes."
The butler directed a pitiful, appealing look at the speaker, and then
went out, leaving Trevor tapping the mahogany table excitedly, till
Pratt tried to throw himself into the breach, with a remark about Sir
Hampton; but no one answered, for Trevor was hard at work keeping down
his annoyance, Vanleigh was picking his white teeth with a gold point,
and Sir Felix was intent upon the tints in the glass he held up before
his eye.
In another minute the butler returned with the cigars, and then departed
to fulfil the other part of his orders.
"Now, Vanleigh, since we are favoured," said Trevor, laughing, "try one
of these. I know they are genuine, for I got them myself at the
Havanna."
"Really," said Vanleigh, with a show of consideration, "I'll give up my
smoke, and I'm sure Flick will."
"Oh, yes, dear boy; don't mind me."
"For goodness' sake, gentlemen, don't make bad worse," said Trevor;
"take your cigars and light up. Hallo, Frank! Don't go out, man."
"Not going," said Pratt, who had already lit a tremendous cigar, and was
puffing away as he took a chair to the window.
"Then, why have you gone there?"
"To smoke the curtains for the benefit of Mrs Lloyd," was the reply;
and he proceeded to put his intention in force.
After an hour they adjourned to Trevor's room, where they had
refreshments brought in, and were soon deep in a rubber of whist, Pratt
being partner with Vanleigh, and playing his very worst; but all the
same, luck and his partner's skill carried them through, so that they
won rather heavily. Time glided away, and the cigars were so good that
for the first time that evening Trevor felt comfortable.
"Well," he thought, "we shall have no more of Mrs Lloyd to-night, and
to-morrow I'll set things right. Me to lead? Good that--there's a
trump."
At that moment the door opened, and Mrs Lloyd appeared, bearing a
waiter with four flat candlesticks, and looking the very image of
austerity.
"The house is all locked up now, sir," she said, in a cold, hard voice.
"It is half-past ten."
"Thank you, Mrs Lloyd," said Trevor, and his face twitched with
annoyance.
"Is half-past ten--bedtime--Mrs Lloyd?" said Pratt, laying down his
cards.
"Yes, sir, it is," said Mrs Lloyd, severely.
"And you've brought us our candles," said Frank, taking the waiter.
"Thank you, Mrs Lloyd; don't you sit up. Good night."
Pratt's good-humoured, smiling face puzzled the housekeeper. She
allowed herself to be backed out, and the door closed behind her.
Volume 2, Chapter III.