It must have been about a week or ten days after the Prince of Wales's
Levée that I had the strange scene with Sibyl Elton I am about to
relate; a scene that left a painful impression on my mind and should
have been sufficient to warn me of impending trouble to come had I not
been too egotistical to accept any portent that presaged ill to myself.
Arriving at Lord Elton's house one evening, and ascending the stairs to
the drawing-room as was now my usual custom, unannounced and without
ceremony, I found Diana Chesney there alone and in tears.
"Why, what's the matter?" I exclaimed in a rallying tone, for I was on
very friendly and familiar terms with the little American--"You, of all
people in the world, having a private 'weep'! Has our dear railway papa
'bust up'?"
She laughed, a trifle hysterically.
"Not just yet, you bet!" she answered, lifting her wet eyes to mine and
showing that mischief still sparkled brightly in them,--"There's nothing
wrong with the funds as far as I know. I've only had a,----well, a sort
of rumpus here with Sibyl."
"With Sibyl?"
"Yes,"--and she rested the point of her little embroidered shoe on a
footstool and looked at it critically--"You see it's the Catsup's 'At
Home' to-night, and I'm invited and Sibyl's invited; Miss Charlotte is
knocked up with nursing the Countess, and of course I made sure that
Sibyl would go. Well, she never said a word about it till she came down
to dinner, and then she asked me what time I wanted the carriage. I said
'Aren't you going too?' and she looked at me in that provoking way of
hers,--_you_ know!--a look that takes you in from your topmost hair to
your shoe-edge,--and answered 'Did you think it possible!' Well, I
flared up, and said of course I thought it possible,--why shouldn't it
be possible? She looked at me in the same way again and said--'To the
_Catsups_? with _you_!' Now, you know, Mr Tempest, that was real
downright rudeness, and more than I could stand so I just gave way to my
mind. 'Look here,' I said--'though you are the daughter of an Earl, you
needn't turn up your nose at Mrs Catsup. She isn't half bad,--I don't
speak of her money,--but she's a real good sort, and has a kind heart,
which it appears to me is more than you have. Mrs Catsup would never
treat me as unkindly as you do.' And then I choked,--I could have burst
out in a regular yell, if I hadn't thought the footman might be outside
the door listening. And Sibyl only smiled, that patent ice-refrigerator
smile of hers, and asked--'would you prefer to live with Mrs Catsup?' Of
course I told her no,--nothing would induce me to live with Mrs Catsup,
and then she said--'Miss Chesney, you pay my father for the protection
and guarantee of his name and position in English social circles, but
the companionship of my father's daughter was not included in the
bargain. I have tried to make you understand as distinctly as I can that
I will not be seen in society with you,--not because I dislike you,--far
from it,--but simply because people would say I was acting as your paid
companion. You force me to speak plainly, and I am sorry if I offend. As
for Mrs Catsup, I have only met her once, and she seemed to me very
common and ill-bred. Besides I do not care for the society of
tradespeople.' And with that she got up and sailed out,--and I heard her
order the carriage for me at ten. It's coming round directly, and just
look at my red eyes! It's awfully hard on me,--I know old Catsup made
his pile out of varnish, but varnish is as good as anything else in the
general market. And----and----it's all out now, Mr Tempest,--and you can
tell Sibyl what I've said if you like; I know you're in love with her!"