CHAPTER X.
LADY ASCOT'S LITTLE NAP.
There was a very dull dinner at Ranford that day, Lord Ascot scarcelyspoke a word; he was kind and polite--he always was that--but he wasvery different from his usual self. The party missed his jokes; which,though feeble and sometimes possibly "rather close to the wind," servedtheir purpose, served to show that the maker of them was desirous tomake himself agreeable to the best of his ability. He never once laughedduring dinner, which was very unusual. It was evident that Lord Saltirehad performed his commission, and Charles was afraid that he wasfuriously angry with Welter; but, on one occasion, when the latterlooked up suddenly and asked him some question, his father answered himkindly in his usual tone of voice, and spoke to him so for some time.
Lady Ascot was a host in herself. With a noble self-sacrifice, she, atthe risk of being laughed at, resolved to attract attention by airingsome of her most remarkable opinions. She accordingly attacked LordSaltire on the subject of the end of the world, putting its totaldestruction by fire at about nine months from that time. Lord Saltirehad no opinion to offer on the probability of Dr. Going's theory, butsincerely hoped that it might last his time, and that he might beallowed to get out of the way in the ordinary manner. He did not for amoment doubt the correctness of her calculations; but he put it to heras a woman of the world, whether or no such an occurrence as shedescribed would not be in the last degree awkward and disconcerting?
Adelaide said she didn't believe a word of it, and nothing should induceher to do so until it took place. This brought the old lady's wrath downupon her and helped the flagging conversation on a little. But, afterdinner, it got so dull in spite of every one's efforts, that LordSaltire confided to his young friend, as they went upstairs, that he hadan idea that something was wrong; but at all events, that the house wasgetting so insufferably dull that he must rat, pardieu, for he couldn'tstand it. He should rat into Devon to his friend Lord Segur.
Welter took occasion to tell Charles that Lord Ascot had sent for him,and told him that he knew all about what had happened, and his debts.That he did not wish the subject mentioned (as if I were likely to talkabout it!); that his debts should, if possible, be paid. That he hadthen gone on to say, that he did not wish to say anything harsh toWelter on the subject--that he doubted whether he retained the right ofreproving his son. That they both needed forgiveness one from the other,and that he hoped in what was to follow they would display that courtesyand mutual forbearance to one another which gentlemen should. "And whatthe deuce does he mean, eh? He never spoke like this before. Is he goingto marry again? Ay, that's what it is, depend upon it," said thispenetrating young gentleman; "that will be rather a shame of him, youknow, particularly if he has two or three cubs to cut into my fortune;"and so from that time Lord Welter began to treat his father with aslight coolness, and an air of injured innocence most amusing, thoughpainful, to Charles and Adelaide, who knew the truth.
As for Adelaide, she seemed to treat Charles like a brother once more.She kept no secret from him; she walked with him, rode with him, just asof old. She did not seem to like Lord Welter's society, though she wasvery kind to him; and he seemed too much taken up with his dogs andhorses to care much for her. So Charles and she were thrown together,and Charles's love for her grew stronger day by day, until that studiedindifferent air which he had assumed on his arrival became almostimpossible to sustain. He sustained it, nevertheless, treating Adelaidealmost with rudeness, and flinging about his words so carelessly, thatsometimes she would look suddenly up indignant, and make some passionatereply, and sometimes she would rise and leave the room--for aught Iknow, in tears.
It was a sad house to stay in; and his heart began to yearn for hiswestern home in spite of Adelaide. After a short time came a long letterfrom his father, a scolding loving letter, in which Densil showedplainly that he was trying to be angry, and could not, for joy athaving his son home with him--and concluded by saying that he shouldnever allude to the circumstance again, and by praying him to come backat once from that wicked, cock-fighting, horse-racing, Ranford. Therewas an inclosure for Lord Saltire, the reading of which caused hislordship to take a great deal of snuff, in which he begged him, for oldfriendship's sake, to send his boy home to him, as he had once sent himhome to his father. And so Lord Saltire appeared in Charles'sdressing-room before dinner one day, and, sitting down, said that he wascome to take a great liberty, and, in fact, was rather presuming on hisbeing an old man, but he hoped that his young friend would not take itamiss from a man old enough to be his grandfather, if he recommended himto leave that house, and go home to his father's. Ranford was a mostdesirable house in every way, but, at the same time, it was what hebelieved the young men of the day called a fast house; and he would notconceal from his young friend that his father had requested him to usehis influence to make him return home; and he did beg his old friend'sson to believe that he was actuated by the best of motives.
"Dear Lord Saltire," said Charles, taking the old man's hand; "I amgoing home to-morrow; and you don't know how heartily I thank you forthe interest you always take in me."
"I know nothing," said Lord Saltire, "more pleasing to a battered oldfellow like myself than to contemplate the ingenuousness of youth, andyou must allow me to say that your ingenuousness sits uncommonly wellupon you--in fact, is very becoming. I conceived a considerable interestin you the first time I saw you, on that very account. I should like tohave had a son like you, but it was not to be. I had a son, who was allthat could be desired by the most fastidious person, brought up in a farbetter school than mine; but he got shot in his first duel, atone-and-twenty. I remember to have been considerably annoyed at thetime," continued the old gentleman, taking a pinch of snuff, and lookingsteadily at Charles without moving a muscle, "but I dare say it was allfor the best; he might have run in debt, or married a woman with redhair, or fifty things. Well, I wish you good day, and beg yourforgiveness once more for the liberty I have taken."
Charles slipped away from the dinner-table early that evening, and,while Lady Ascot was having her after-dinner nap, had a longconversation with Adelaide in the dark, which was very pleasant to oneof the parties concerned, at any rate.
"Adelaide, I am going home to-morrow."
"Are you really? Are you going so suddenly?"
"I am, positively. I got a letter from home to-day. Are you very sorryor very glad?"
"I am very sorry, Charles. You are the only friend I have in the worldto whom I can speak as I like. Make me a promise."
"Well?"
"This is the last night we shall be together. Promise that you won't berude and sarcastic as you are sometimes--almost always, now, to poorme--but talk kindly, as we used to do."
"Very well," said Charles. "And you promise you won't be taking such ablack view of the state of affairs as you do in general. Do you rememberthe conversation we had the day the colt was tried?"
"I remember."
"Well, don't talk like that, you know."
"I won't promise that. The time will come very soon when we shall haveno more pleasant talks together."
"When will that be?"
"When I am gone out for a governess."
"What wages will you get? You will not get so much as some girls,because you are so pretty and so wilful, and you will lead them such adeuce of a life."
"Charles, you said you wouldn't be rude."
"I choose to be rude. I have been drinking wine, and we are in the dark,and aunt is asleep and snoring, and I shall say just what I like."
"I'll wake her."
"I should like to see you. What shall we talk about? What an old RomanLord Saltire is. He talked about his son who was killed, to me to-day,just as I should talk about a pointer dog."
"Then he thought he had been showing some signs of weakness. He alwaysspeaks of his son like that when he thinks he has been betraying somefeeling."
"I admire him for it," said Charles.--"So you are going to be agoverness, eh?"
> "I suppose so."
"Why don't you try being barmaid at a public-house? Welter would get youa place directly; he has great influence in the licensed victuallingway. You might come to marry a commercial traveller, for anything youknow."
"I would not have believed this," she said, in a fierce, low voice. "Youhave turned against me and insult me, because----Unkind, unjust,ungentlemanlike."
He heard her passionately sobbing in the dark, and the next moment hehad her in his arms, and was covering her face with kisses.
"Lie there, my love," he said; "that is your place. All the world can'tharm or insult my Adelaide while she is there. Why did you fly from meand repulse me, my darling, when I told you I was your own true love?"
"Oh, let me go, Charles," she said, trying, ever so feebly, to repulsehim. "Dear Charles, pray do; I am frightened."
"Not till you tell me you love me, false one."
"I love you more than all the world."
"Traitress! And why did you repulse me and laugh at me?"
"I did not think you were in earnest."
"Another kiss for that wicked, wicked falsehood. Do you know that thisrustication business has all come from the despair consequent on yourwicked behaviour the other day?"
"You said Welter caused it, Charles. But oh, please let me go."
"Will you go as a governess now?"
"I will do nothing but what you tell me."
"Then give me one, your own, own self, and I will let you go."
Have the reader's feelings of horror, indignation, astonishment,outraged modesty, or ridicule, given him time to remember that all thiswent on in the dark, within six feet of an unconscious old lady? Such,however, was the case. And scarcely had Adelaide determined that it wastime to wake her, and barely had she bent over her for that purpose,when the door was thrown open, and--enter attendants with lights. Now,if the reader will reflect a moment, he will see what an awful escapethey had; for the chances were about a thousand to one in favour of twothings having happened: 1st, the groom of the chambers might have comeinto the room half a minute sooner; and 2nd, they might have sat as theywere half a minute longer; in either of which cases, Charles would havebeen discovered with his arm round Adelaide's waist, and a fearfulscandal would have been the consequence. And I mention this as a cautionto young persons in general, and to remind them that, if they happen tobe sitting hand in hand, it is no use to jump apart and look very redjust as the door opens, because the incomer can see what they have beenabout as plain as if he had been there. On this occasion, also, Charlesand Adelaide set down as usual to their own sagacity what was the resultof pure accident.
Adelaide was very glad to get away after tea, for she felt rather guiltyand confused. On Charles's offering to go, however, Lady Ascot, who hadbeen very silent and glum all tea-time, requested him to stay, as shehad something serious to say to him. Which set the young gentlemanspeculating whether she could possibly have been awake before theadvent of candles, and caused him to await her pleasure with no smallamount of trepidation.
Her ladyship began by remarking that digitalis was invaluable forpalpitation, and that she had also found camomile, combined with gentlepurgatives, efficient for the same thing, when suspected to proceed fromthe stomach. She opined that, if this weather continued, there would beheavy running for the Cambridgeshire, and Commissioner would probablystand as well as any horse. And then, having, like a pigeon, taken a fewairy circles through stable-management, theology, and agriculture, shedescended on her subject, and frightened Charles out of his five wits byasking him if he didn't think Adelaide a very nice girl.
Charles decidedly thought she was a very nice girl; but he ratherhesitated, and said--"Yes, that she was charming."
"Now, tell me, my dear," said Lady Ascot, manoeuvring a great old fan,"for young eyes are quicker than old ones. Did you ever remark anythingbetween her and Welter?"
Charles caught up one of his legs, and exclaimed, "The devil!"
"What a shocking expression, my dear! Well, I agree with you. I fancy Ihave noticed that they have entertained a decided preference for oneanother. Of course, Welter will be throwing himself away, and all thatsort of thing, but he is pretty sure to do that. I expect, every time hecomes home, that he will bring a wife from behind the bar of apublic-house. Now, Adelaide--"
"Aunt! Lady Ascot! Surely you are under a mistake. I never saw anythingbetween them."
"H'm."
"I assure you I never did. I never heard Welter speak of her in thatsort of way, and I don't think she cares for him."
"What reason have you for thinking _that_?"
"Well--why, you know it's hard to say. The fact is, I have rather apartiality for Adelaide myself, and I have watched her in the presenceof other men."
"Oho! Do you think she cares for you? Do you know she won't have asixpence?"
"We shall have enough to last till next year, aunt; and then the worldis to come to an end, you know, and we shan't want anything."
"Never you mind about the world, sir. Don't you be flippant andimpertinent, sir. Don't evade my question, sir. Do you think Adelaidecares for you, sir?"
"Charles looked steadily and defiantly at his aunt, and asked herwhether she didn't think it was very difficult to find out what agirl's mind really was--whereby we may conclude that he was profiting byLord Saltire's lesson on the command of feature."
"This is too bad, Charles," broke out Lady Ascot, "to put me off likethis, after your infamous and audacious conduct of this evening--afterkissing and hugging that girl under my very nose--"
"I thought it!" said Charles, with a shout of laughter. "I thought it,you were awake all the time!"
"I was not awake all the time, sir--"
"You were awake quite long enough, it appears, aunty. Now, what do youthink of it?"
At first Lady Ascot would think nothing of it, but that the iniquity ofCharles's conduct was only to be equalled by the baseness andingratitude of Adelaide's; but by degrees she was brought to think thatit was possible that some good might come of an engagement; and, atlength, becoming garrulous on this point, it leaked out by degrees, thatshe had set her heart on it for years, that she had noticed for sometime Charles's partiality for her with the greatest pleasure, andrecently had feared that something had disturbed it. In short, that itwas her pet scheme, and that she had been coming to an explanation thatvery night, but had been anticipated.