"You Are Not Angry?"
On their journey back to Portray, the ladies were almost too tired
for talking; and Sir Griffin was sulky. Sir Griffin had as yet heard
nothing about Greystock's adventure, and did not care to be told.
But when once they were at the castle, and had taken warm baths, and
glasses of sherry, and got themselves dressed and had come down to
dinner, they were all very happy. To Lizzie it had certainly been the
most triumphant day of her life. Her marriage with Sir Florian had
been triumphant, but that was only a step to something good that was
to come after. She then had at her own disposal her little wits and
her prettiness, and a world before her in which, as it then seemed
to her, there was a deal of pleasure if she could only reach it. Up
to this period of her career she had hardly reached any pleasure;
but this day had been very pleasant. Lord George de Bruce Carruthers
had in truth been her Corsair, and she had found the thing which
she liked to do, and would soon know how to do. How glorious it was
to jump over that black, yawning stream, and then to see Lucinda
fall into it! And she could remember every jump, and her feeling of
ecstasy as she landed on the right side. And she had by heart every
kind word that Lord George had said to her,--and she loved the sweet,
pleasant, Corsair-like intimacy that had sprung up between them. She
wondered whether Frank was at all jealous. It wouldn't be amiss that
he should be a little jealous. And then somebody had brought home in
his pocket the fox's brush, which the master of the hounds had told
the huntsman to give her. It was all delightful;--and so much more
delightful because Mrs. Carbuncle had not gone quite so well as she
liked to go, and because Lucinda had fallen into the water.
They did not dine till past eight, and the ladies and gentlemen all
left the room together. Coffee and liqueurs were to be brought into
the drawing-room, and they were all to be intimate, comfortable,
and at their ease;--all except Sir Griffin Tewett, who was still
very sulky. "Did he say anything?" Mrs. Carbuncle had asked. "Yes."
"Well?" "He proposed; but of course I could not answer him when I was
wet through." There had been but a moment, and in that moment this
was all that Lucinda would say.
"Now I don't mean to stir again," said Lizzie, throwing herself into
a corner of a sofa, "till somebody carries me to bed. I never was
so tired in all my life." She was tired, but there is a fatigue
which is delightful as long as all the surroundings are pleasant and
comfortable.
"I didn't call it a very hard day," said Mrs. Carbuncle.
"You only killed one fox," said Mr. Emilius, pretending a
delightfully clerical ignorance, "and on Monday you killed four. Why
should you be tired?"
"I suppose it was nearly twenty miles," said Frank, who was also
ignorant.
"About ten, perhaps," said Lord George. "It was an hour and forty
minutes, and there was a good bit of slow hunting after we had come
back over the river."
"I'm sure it was thirty," said Lizzie, forgetting her fatigue in her
energy.
"Ten is always better than twenty," said Lord George, "and five
generally better than ten."
"It was just whatever is best," said Lizzie. "I know Frank's friend,
Mr. Nappie, said it was twenty. By-the-bye, Frank, oughtn't we to
have asked Mr. Nappie home to dinner?"
"I thought so," said Frank; "but I couldn't take the liberty myself."
"I really think poor Mr. Nappie was very badly used," said Mrs.
Carbuncle.
"Of course he was," said Lord George;--"no man ever worse since
hunting was invented. He was entitled to a dozen dinners and no end
of patronage; but you see he took it out in calling your cousin Mr.
Greystockings."
"I felt that blow," said Frank.
"I shall always call you Cousin Greystockings," said Lizzie.
"It was hard," continued Lord George, "and I understood it all so
well when he got into a mess in his wrath about booking the horse
to Kilmarnock. If the horse had been on the roadside, he or his men
could have protected him. He is put under the protection of a whole
railway company, and the company gives him up to the first fellow
that comes and asks for him."
"It was cruel," said Frank.
"If it had happened to me, I should have been very angry," said Mrs.
Carbuncle.
"But Frank wouldn't have had a horse at all," said Lizzie, "unless he
had taken Mr. Nappie's."
Lord George still continued his plea for Mr. Nappie. "There's
something in that, certainly; but, still, I agree with Mrs.
Carbuncle. If it had happened to me, I should--just have committed
murder and suicide. I can't conceive anything so terrible. It's all
very well for your noble master to talk of being civil, and hoping
that the horse had carried him well, and all that. There are
circumstances in which a man can't be civil. And then everybody
laughed at him! It's the way of the world. The lower you fall, the
more you're kicked."
"What can I do for him?" asked Frank.
"Put him down at your club, and order thirty dozen of grey shirtings
from Nappie and Co., without naming the price."
"He'd send you grey stockings instead," said Lizzie.
But though Lizzie was in heaven, it behoved her to be careful. The
Corsair was a very fine specimen of the Corsair breed;--about the
best Corsair she had ever seen, and had been devoted to her for the
day. But these Corsairs are known to be dangerous, and it would not
be wise that she should sacrifice any future prospect of importance
on behalf of a feeling, which, no doubt, was founded on poetry, but
which might too probably have no possible beneficial result. As far
as she knew, the Corsair had not even an island of his own in the
Ægean Sea. And, if he had, might not the island too probably have a
Medora or two of its own? In a ride across the country the Corsair
was all that a Corsair should be; but knowing, as she did, but very
little of the Corsair, she could not afford to throw over her cousin
for his sake. As she was leaving the drawing-room, she managed to say
one word to her cousin. "You were not angry with me because I got
Lord George to ride with me instead of you?"
"Angry with you?"
"I knew I should only be a hindrance to you."
"It was a matter of course. He knows all about it, and I know
nothing. I am very glad that you liked it so much."
"I did like it;--and so did you. I was so glad you got that poor
man's horse. You were not angry then?" They had now passed across the
hall, and were on the bottom stair.
"Certainly not."
"And you are not angry for what happened before?" She did not look
into his face as she asked this question, but stood with her eyes
fixed on the stair-carpet.
"Indeed no."
"Good night, Frank."
"Good night, Lizzie." Then she went, and he returned to a room below
which had been prepared for purposes of tobacco and soda-water and
brandy.
"Why, Griff, you're rather out of sorts to-night," said Lord George
to his friend, before Frank had joined them.
"So would you be out of sorts if you'd lost your run and had to pick
a young woman out of the water. I don't like young women when they're
damp and smell of mud."
"You mean to marry her, I suppose?"
"How would you like me to ask you questions? Do you mean to marry the
widow? And, if you do, what'll Mrs. Carbuncle say? And if you don't,
what do you mean to do; and all the rest of it?"
"As for marrying the widow, I should like to know the facts first.
As to Mrs. C., she wouldn't object in the least. I generally have
my horses so bitted that they can't very well object. And as to the
other question, I mean to stay here for the next fortnight, and I
advise you to make it square with Miss Roanoke. Here's my lady's
cousin; for a man who doesn't ride often, he went very well to-day."
"I wonder if he'd take a twenty-pound note if I sent it to him," said
Frank, when they broke up for the night. "I don't like the idea of
riding such a fellow's horse for nothing."
"He'll bring an action against the railway, and then you can offer to
pay if you like." Mr. Nappie did bring an action against the railway,
claiming exorbitant damages;--but with what result, we need not
trouble ourselves to inquire.