A FRIEND OF THE FAMILY
Someone was whistling in the stable-yard with elaborate turns and trills
to the accompaniment of a horse's hoofs that danced upon the stones.
It was Christmas Day, and from the church half-way down the hill there
came the gay peal of bells. The stable-doors were all closed, and the
yard was in perfect order. There was no one about besides the solitary
whistler on horseback; and he, it seemed, had no intention of prolonging
his solitude, for he was heading his horse straight for the spotless
white gate that led to Jake Bolton's dwelling.
He was a young man, with a swarthy face of undeniable ugliness that yet
possessed a monkeyish fascination that was all its own. His eyes
laughed out of it with a merry wickedness--odd eyes, one black, one
grey, that gave a most fantastic expression to his whole countenance.
They were not trustworthy eyes, but they were full of humour. He had a
comedian's trick of working the brows above them so that his features
were scarcely ever in repose.
He sat in the saddle as one completely at home there; but there was no
grace about him. His limbs seemed to be fastened on with wires, like
the limbs of a marionette.
Reaching the closed white gate, he stooped from the saddle, and with the
end of his riding-switch lifted the catch. On the little finger of the
hand he thus extended he wore a slender gold ring in which was set a
single sapphire surrounded by diamonds.
He walked his horse up the footpath to the door, and on this he beat a
rousing tattoo, still without dismounting.
During the pause that ensued he whistled a few more elaborate bars of
his melody, and then, coming to a break, bent and knocked again.
The door opened in haste as if agitated by the second summons, and Mrs.
Lovelace, red-faced from her kitchen fire, appeared curtseying in the
entrance.
"So sorry to keep you waiting, my lord! The girl's gone to church. And
will your lordship be pleased to walk in? We'd only heard this morning
of your lordship's return, and we'd not hardly expected to see your
lordship up so soon."
"A merry Christmas to you, Lovelace!" said his lordship, with that most
engaging grin of his; he leaned towards her confidentially. "Take this
for love of me, in honour of the occasion!"
He slipped a coin into Mrs. Lovelace's hand that caused her to curtsey
again ecstatically and wish him every blessing she could call to mind on
the spur of the moment. But he laughed easily and cut her short.
"Hear, hear! But I can't stop to listen. Where's Jake Bolton? Is he
in?"
"Well, no, my lord. I'm sorry to say Mr. Bolton's gone to church."
"Sorry! Oh, come, Mother Lovelace, spare my morals! I always thought
going to church was an innocent amusement. Don't disabuse me of my
childish fancies! But what's the good of my walking in if the boss is
out and you are cooking the turkey? Unless you're wanting someone to
come and turn the spit!"
Mrs. Lovelace raised hands of horrified protest. "How your lordship do
carry on, to be sure! No, no, my lord! I was only thinking that you'd
maybe fancy a glass of my cherry brandy with the wind in the east as it
is. I'm sure as Mr. Bolton would be wishful for me to make the
suggestion."
"I should prefer the cherry brandy by itself," said Lord Saltash, with a
mischievous chuckle. "But I won't stay now, thanks all the same. I
suppose he'll be back some time? I've never known Jake go to church
before. Is he courting or what?"
Mrs. Lovelace opened her small round eyes to their widest extent. "Why,
can it be as your lordship hasn't heard?"
"Heard! Heard what? Tell me quickly!" urged his lordship. "This
suspense is too horrible!"
"About Mr. Bolton's marriage, sir," explained Mrs. Lovelace, looking
suddenly prim.
"What!" ejaculated her listener. "You don't say Bolton's been caught?"
"The marriage took place last Sunday, my lord," said Mrs. Lovelace,
still looking prim but plainly enjoying her _role_ of informant.
Lord Saltash slapped his thigh with a yell of laughter. "Poor old Jake!
And who is the bride?"
"Mrs. Bolton, my lord, is the step-daughter of Mr. Sheppard of the
Anchor Hotel," said Mrs. Lovelace.
"Is she though? What's she like? Pretty?"
Mrs. Lovelace pursed her lips. "She is a lady, my lord,--own daughter
to a baronet."
"Oh, I say!" protested Lord Saltash. "You're cramming me!"
Mrs. Lovelace looked shocked but at the same time flattered by the
accusation. "Indeed, my lord, it's the truth!" she protested. "And her
brother Sir Bernard Brian is in the house at the present moment. He,
poor young gentleman, has the misfortune to be afflicted with a
humpback."
"What? What? What? My good woman, do you know what you're talking
about?" Saltash's mobile brows came suddenly low over his eyes in a
heavy scowl that added years to his appearance. He leaned nearer to
her. "What?" he said again.
Mrs. Lovelace paused, debating which of her statements he desired her to
repeat. But ere she could make up her mind, Lord Saltash dropped with a
thud to the ground. He threw his horse's bridle over the gate-post, and
turned to enter.
"Just ring up one of the stable-lads, and tell him to walk Moscow up and
down till I come!" he ordered, his voice no longer bland, but curt and
imperious. "I should like to see this brother-in-law of Bolton's, so
show me in!"
Mrs. Lovelace turned before him and scurried down the passage like a
startled hen.
Lord Saltash strode after--a figure of medium height, sudden of
movement, unimposing of carriage, yet withal possessing that nameless
something that denotes high breeding. It was said that there was a
strain of royal blood in the Burchester family, and this member of it
had long been dubbed "the merry monarch" by his intimates. There was
about him an inherent arrogance that no one dreamed of resenting, so
essentially was it a part of himself.
He entered Jake's sunny parlour with absolute assurance, though the
frown still drew his forehead.
"Lord Saltash!" announced Mrs. Lovelace.
And "Hullo, Bunny!" came from Lord Saltash in the same moment as he
strode forward to Bunny's sofa with the confidence of one entering the
presence of an old friend.
Bunny's quick cry of "Charlie!" fully justified this attitude, and Mrs.
Lovelace withdrew with a very greatly enhanced opinion of the importance
of the Brian family.
"He might have been greeting his own brother," she said to herself, as
she trotted back to her kitchen.
There was certainly no cordiality lacking in Bunny's reception of the
visitor. He clung to Lord Saltash's hand with shining eyes upraised.
"I say, what a bounder you are to have stayed away all this time! I
thought you'd have come back long ago. Maud's married. I suppose you
know?"
"Married to Jake Bolton?" There was a peculiar intonation in the
question. Lord Saltash was smiling as he uttered it, smiling with drawn
brows.
"Yes; and he's the best of good fellows. But I wanted her to wait for
you all the same," said Bunny, with the candour of the confidant. "It
was no good talking though. She couldn't wait."
"How long has she been married?" Lord Saltash's tone was settling into
studied indifference.
"Only a few days," Bunny told him. "Only since Sunday."
"Was it so urgent as that then? She isn't generally in such a desperate
hurry."
Bunny looked uncomfortable. "You see, it was that brute of a Sheppard
at 'The Anchor.' The mater married him, you know. Thought she was
going to do a good thing for us all. I think it has turned out all
right so far as she is concerned. But he was a perfect beast to Maud
and me."
Lord Saltash nodded comprehension. "I never did think your mother was
over-endowed with wisdom," he commented. "And how did you come to know
Bolton? Is he a friend of Sheppard's?"
"They're in the same lot, though I don't think Jake likes him. Jake's a
good sort, isn't he?" said Bunny almost pleadingly. "He's been jolly
decent to us."
Lord Saltash was gazing before him through eyelids that were slightly
contracted. "I believe he is quite a good sort," he said after a moment
without enthusiasm. "And Maud? Is she in love with him?"
"Good gracious, no!" said Bunny.
Lord Saltash turned towards him sharply. "You're very emphatic. Why?"
"Well, she isn't," Bunny asserted. "Jake knows she isn't."
"Oh! And what may Jake's sentiments be?"
"He's gone on her of course," said Bunny. "But he isn't nearly so pally
with her as he is with me. Why, he even smacks my head sometimes!" He
spoke with genuine pride.
Lord Saltash laughed. "Oh, Jake's a great disciplinarian," he said, "or
he wouldn't be where he is. But look here, does he know that I am--so
to speak--a friend of the family?"
"Yes, I told him," said Bunny.
"What did you tell him?"
"Told him that you and Maud were chums, and that if she married anyone
she ought to marry you." Bunny's tone was blunt, his face somewhat red.
Lord Saltash laughed again. The drawn look had wholly gone from his
eyes. He worked his brows up and down with astonishing agility. "That
pleased him, I'll bet," he remarked flippantly. "And so he decided to
get married the next day, did he, and damn the consequences?"
"Oh no, it didn't come off then. We had a big row with the Sheppard
beast first; and it was after that Maud went off and fixed it up with
Jake on her own. It was a pity you weren't there, Charlie. She'd have
married almost anyone to get away."
"Any scoundrel?" laughed Lord Saltash. "Well, old chap, do you know,
between me and you, I'm not sure that she hasn't done better for herself
than if she had waited for me to come along? Marriage has such a nasty
way of taking the gilt off the gingerbread, and I must admit I always
liked the gilt the best. Now, Jake,--good soul--prefers the stuff
itself; in fact, I'm not sure that he isn't a bit of a beast in some
ways. He looks it. But possibly Maud likes beasts."
"Indeed she doesn't!" said Bunny, with quick warmth. "And as for
Jake--he's a brick. I see a good deal of him, for he's taken me on at
night now; so I ought to know."
Lord Saltash got up and strolled to the window. "Yes, he must be rather
a brick," he said, after a moment. "Doesn't Maud think so?"
"No, Maud's furious because Jake won't let her lift me any more. I
expect she is jealous," said Bunny, with some complacence. "And she
doesn't like being bossed."
"You don't object apparently?" Lord Saltash sounded indifferent, even
slightly bored.
"Oh, I'd sooner be bossed by a man than a woman any day," said Bunny.
"Besides, Jake's a sport. I like him."
"He's a gentleman," said Saltash unexpectedly.
"Not exactly," protested Bunny. "He doesn't profess to be that."
"My dear chap, a gentleman is born not made. Jake's sound. It's more
than most of us can say. I wouldn't part with him for a thousand
pounds."
Lord Saltash turned from the window with a pleasant smile on his ugly
face, and broke into a careless whistle.
Bunny watched him fidgeting to and fro with a slightly puzzled frown.
He had expected something more dramatic than this easy acquiescence to
the ruling of Fate. He was sure in his own mind that the Lord Saltash
of to-day loved his sister as much as had the Charlie Burchester of
other days, and he could not understand the serenity of his attitude.
"I suppose you'll wait and see Maud," he said presently.
"I suppose I shall," said Saltash, with a baffling grimace. "Are you
going to eat your Christmas dinner without visitors?"
"Yes. The mater was coming, but that Sheppard bounder turned awkward at
the last minute, and as we none of us wanted to go there, it fell
through. They've got some show on at 'The Anchor.' We're well out of
that."
"And you consider this a change for the better?" questioned Lord
Saltash.
"Rather! I wouldn't go back for fifty pounds. Neither would Maud.
It's much nicer up here than down by the sea, too," said Bunny, with
enthusiasm.
"I suppose you haven't been to the Castle," said Lord Saltash, coming
back to the fire to stand before it.
"No. Jake said something about taking us some day. But it's not much
good my going. I'm such a log." The old bitterness suddenly sounded in
Bunny's voice.
Lord Saltash lightly poked him with the end of his riding-switch. "I'll
take you round myself some day, you and Maud. I'm off for a ride now
when I've had a look round the stables. I shall be back in an hour or
so, in time to see the virtuous Jake when he comes back from church."
He turned to the door therewith, and fell to whistling softly the tune
to which he had entered the stable-yard a short time before. Opening it
he glanced back to wave a careless adieu, then passed whistling out.
"Well, I'm jiggered!" said Bunny. "Anyone would think he didn't care a
jot!"
Which was precisely the impression that Lord Saltash had intended to
convey.