"Ah, my dearest boy!" cried Lady Millet, an evening or two later; "I did
not expect you."
"'Spose not," said Dick shortly; "but I've come, all the same."
"You want money, sir, I suppose; and I will not have papa worried."
"No, I don't want money. I've come up on particular business."
"Business! Great heavens, my dear child! what is the matter?"
"Well, I don't know yet. But, I say, is Gertrude going to marry John
Huish?"
"Certainly not--impossible! I have other views for your sister."
"And what are they?"
"This is a subject I should discuss with your papa, Richard; but you are
a man grown now, and I am sorry to say papa does not afford me the
support I should like, so I will tell you in confidence. I believe Lord
Henry Moorpark will propose directly."
"Do you? I don't."
"What do you mean, Dick?" cried her ladyship sharply.
"That's what has brought me up to town. Lady Littletown has been
stealing a march on you, and is trying to egg him on to propose
elsewhere."
"The wretched scheming creature! Oh! No, no, it is impossible. You
are mistaken, my boy."
"Oh no, I'm not. The old chap is quite on there at Hampton Court. But
of course he has no chance."
"Stop! At Hampton Court? Who is the lady?"
"One of the Miss Dymcoxes' nieces, living with her aunts in the Palace."
"Philippa Dymcox's niece?"
"Yes."
"Not a Miss Riversley?"
"That's the name, mamma."
"How horrible!--Riversleys! Why, they are connected with the Huishes.
That Mr John Huish's father married a Miss Riversley."
"Very likely," said Dick Millet coolly. "That's the lady, all the
same--Miss Dymcox's niece."
"The Dymcoxes! the paupers! Lady Littletown's doing! Oh, that woman!"
"You don't like her, then, mamma?"
"Like her? Ugh!" exclaimed Lady Millet in tones of disgust; "I can soon
put a stop to that, my son." Her ladyship compressed her lips. "But it
is all Gertrude's fault, behaving so ridiculously about that John Huish.
I don't know what she may not have said to Lord Henry the other night.
He was almost at her feet, and now he shall be quite. John Huish
indeed!--a man going hopelessly to the bad," Her ladyship rang. "There
is no time to be lost. I must act at once. Lord Henry Moorpark must be
brought back to his allegiance. Send Miss Gertrude's maid to ask her to
step down here," continued her ladyship to the servant who answered the
bell.
"What are you going to do?"
"Arrange for invitations to be sent out at once. Oh, Dick, my boy, the
stories I have heard lately about Mr Huish's gambling and dissipation
are terrible! Gertrude has had a marvellous escape. It is very
shocking, for your uncle and father have known the Huishes all their
lives. Well?"
"Richards says, my lady, that Miss Millet went out an hour ago."
"Out? Gone out?"
"Yes, my lady; and Richards found this note left on the dressing-table,
my lady, stuck down on the cushion with a pin."
"Great heavens!" cried Lady Millet, snatching the note from a salver;
"there, leave the room."
The man bowed and moved to the door, in time to open it for Sir
Humphrey, who stood beaming at his son, while her ladyship tore open the
letter and read:
"Dear Mamma,--_I cannot marry Lord Henry Moorpark. Good-bye_."
"That's all!" cried her ladyship in a perfect wail. "What does it
mean?"
"Looks suspicious," said Dick. "Hullo!" he continued, as the servant
reopened the door. "Can't see visitors."
"Mr Frank Morrison, sir," said the man, who looked rather scared at
seeing her ladyship sink upon a couch, where Sir Humphrey began to fan
her.
"What the deuce does he want?" grumbled Dick. "Hullo, Frank! I was
coming to see you about that row with our Renee. Gertrude wrote and
told me."
"My wife here?" said Morrison, who was a good deal excited by wine.
"What, Renee? No!"
"Damn!" cried the young husband, dropping upon a chair, and looking from
one to the other.
"Something fresh, then?" cried Dick, growing excited. "Here, why the
devil don't you speak, man?"
"Yes, yes! why don't you speak?" cried Lady Millet piteously. "Oh,
Frank dear, what news? Have you seen Gertrude?"
"No," he said thickly. "I want Renee."
"Where is she? Speak, I conjure you!" cried her ladyship.
"Don't know," said Morrison, glancing round. "Haven't been home for
days. Went home this afternoon. Had some words and came away again."
"Well, well, go on! I saw you playing billiards at the club."
"Yes," said Morrison, whose brain was clouded with days of excess.
"Went home again just now. Going to make it up, and she'd gone. Where
is she? Want her directly."
Dick stood thinking for a few moments, while her ladyship looked at him
as if imploring him to speak.
"She's in it, p'raps," he said. "Look here, Frank, can you understand
me, or have you got D.T. too bad?"
"Yes, I understand," said the young man thickly.
"Gertrude's gone away. We think your wife must be in the plot."
"No," said Morrison slowly, as he gave his head a shake to clear it, and
stood up angry and fierce, while the others hung upon his words as being
likely to dispel their fears. "No, poor girl! too much trouble. I'm a
villain," he groaned, "and I struck her to-night; but--but," he cried
excitedly, "she deceived me. Gone with Malpas. She's false as hell!"
"It's a lie!" cried Dick fiercely. "Here, father, see to my mother.
It's a lie, I say; and you, Frank Morrison, you're a cad to dare to--
Ah!" said the lad, uttering a shrill cry, and he had just time to drive
up a pistol as it exploded, and save his brother-in-law's brains from
being scattered on the wall.
Then there was a fierce struggle, as Frank Morrison strove to direct the
revolver at his temples once more, and Dick fought with him bravely till
overpowered; but two of the frightened servants ran in, and with their
help the madman was secured and held down till the arrival of the
nearest doctor, a messenger having been also sent for Dr Stonor, who
arrived a couple of hours later; and between them the excitement of the
would-be suicide was somewhat allayed, though he was still half mad.
It was the old story--days and days of heavy use of stimulants, till the
fevered madness that generally comes in its wake had seized upon an
already too excited brain; and it was only by the use of the strongest
measures that the medical men were able to restrain their patient's
violence, as he rambled on wildly hour after hour, the burden of his
incoherent mutterings being, "My wife! my wife!"
Volume 2, Chapter VIII.