CHAPTER XXXVII.
LORD WELTER'S MENAGE.
There was a time, a time we have seen, when Lord Welter was a merry,humorous, thoughtless boy. A boy, one would have said, with as littlereal mischief in him as might be. He might have made a decent member ofsociety, who knows? But to do him justice, he had had everything againsthim from his earliest childhood. He had never known what a mother was,or a sister. His earliest companions were grooms and gamekeepers; andhis religious instruction was got mostly from his grandmother, whoseold-fashioned Sunday-morning lectures and collect learnings, so rigidlypursued that he dreaded Sunday of all days in the week, were succeededby cock-fighting in the Croft with his father in the afternoon, andlounging away the evening among the stable-boys. As Lord Saltire oncesaid, in the former part of this story, "Ranford was what the young menof the day called an uncommon fast house."
Fast enough, in truth. "All downhill and no drag on." Welter soon defiedhis grandmother. For his father he cared nothing. Lord Ascot was sofoolishly fond of the boy that he never contradicted him in anything,and used even to laugh when he was impudent to his grandmother, whom, todo Lord Ascot justice, he respected more than any living woman. Tutorswere tried, of whom Welter, by a happy combination of obstinacy andrecklessness, managed to vanquish three, in as many months. It washopeless. Lord Ascot would not hear of his going to school. He was hisonly boy, his darling. He could not part with him; and, when Lady Ascotpressed the matter, he grew obstinate, as he could at times, and said hewould not. The boy would do well enough; he had been just like him athis age, and look at him now!
Lord Ascot was mistaken. He had not been quite like Lord Welter at hisage. He had been a very quiet sort of boy indeed. Lord Ascot was a greatstickler for blood in horses, and understood such things. I wonder hecould not have seen the difference between the sweet, loving face of hismother, capable of violent, furious passion though it was, and that ofhis coarse, stupid, handsome, gipsy-looking wife, and judgedaccordingly. He had engrafted a new strain of blood on the old Stauntonstock, and was to reap the consequences.
What was to become of Lord Welter was a great problem, still unsolved;when, one night, shortly before Charles paid his first visit to Ranford,vice Cuthbert, disapproved of, Lord Ascot came up, as his custom was,into his mother's dressing-room, to have half-an-hour's chat with herbefore she went to bed.
"I wonder, mother dear," he said, "whether I ought to ask old Saltireagain, or not? He wouldn't come last time you know. If I thought hewouldn't come, I'd ask him."
"You must ask him," said Lady Ascot, brushing her grey hair, "and hewill come."
"_Very_ well," said Lord Ascot. "It's a bore; but you must have some oneto flirt with, I suppose."
Lady Ascot laughed. In fact, she had written before, and told him thathe _must_ come, for she wanted him; and come he did.
"Now, Maria," said Lord Saltire, on the first night, as soon as he andLady Ascot were seated together on a quiet sofa, "what is it? Why haveyou brought me down to meet this mob of jockeys and gamekeepers? Afortnight here, and not a soul to speak to, but Mainwaring and yourself.After I was here last time, dear old Lady Hainault croaked out in alarge crowd that some one smelt of the stable."
"Dear old soul," said Lady Ascot. "What a charming, delicate wit shehas. You will have to come here again, though. Every year, mind."
"Kismet," said Lord Saltire. "But what is the matter?"
"What do you think of Ascot's boy?"
"Oh, Lord!" said Lord Saltire. "So I have been brought all this way tobe consulted about a schoolboy. Well, I think he looks an atrociousyoung cub, as like his dear mamma as he can be. I always used to expectthat she would call me a pretty gentleman, and want to tell my fortune."
Lady Ascot smiled: _she_ knew her man. She knew he would have died forher and hers.
"He is getting very troublesome," said Lady Ascot. "What would youreco----"
"Send him to Eton," said Lord Saltire.
"But he is very high-spirited, James, and----"
"_Send him to Eton._ Do you hear, Maria?"
"But Ascot won't let him go," said Lady Ascot.
"Oh, he won't, won't he?" said Lord Saltire. "Now, let us hear no moreof the cub, but have our picquet in peace."
The next morning Lord Saltire had an interview with Lord Ascot, and twohours afterwards it was known that Lord Welter was to go to Eton atonce.
And so, when Lord Welter met Charles at Twyford, he told him of it.
At Eton, he had rapidly found other boys brought up with the same tastesas himself, and with these he consorted. A rapid interchange ofexperiences went on among these young gentlemen; which ended in LordWelter, at all events, being irreclaimably vicious.
Lord Welter had fallen in love with Charles, as boys do, and theirfriendship had lasted on, waning as it went, till they permanently metagain at Oxford. There, though their intimacy was as close as ever, theold love died out, for a time, amidst riot and debauchery. Charles hadsome sort of a creed about women; Lord Welter had none. Charles drew aline at a certain point, low down it might be, which he never passed;Welter set no bounds anywhere. What Lord Hainault said of him atTattersall's was true. One day, when they had been arguing on this pointrather sharply, Charles said--
"If you mean what you say, you are not fit to come into a gentleman'shouse. But you don't mean it, old cock; so don't be an ass."
He did mean it, and Charles was right. Alas! that ever he should havecome to Ravenshoe!
Lord Welter had lived so long in the house with Adelaide that he neverthought of making love to her. They used to quarrel, like Benedict andBeatrice. What happened was her fault. She was worthless. Worthless. Letus have done with it. I can expand over Lord Saltire and Lady Ascot, andsuch good people, but I cannot over her, more than is necessary.
Two things Lord Welter was very fond of--brawling and dicing. He was anarrant bully, very strong, and perfect in the use of his fists, and ofsuch courage and tenacity that, having once began a brawl, no one hadever made him leave it, save as an unqualified victor. This was gettingwell known now. Since he had left Oxford and had been living in London,he had been engaged in two or three personal encounters in the terriblyfast society to which he had betaken himself, and men were gettingafraid of him. Another thing was, that, drink as he would, he neverplayed the worse for it. He was a lucky player. Sometimes, after winningmoney of a man, he would ask him home to have his revenge. That mangenerally went again and again to Lord Welter's house, in St. John'sWood, and did not find himself any the richer. It was the most beautifullittle gambling den in London, and it was presided over by one of themost beautiful, witty, fascinating women ever seen. A woman with whomall the men fell in love; so staid, so respectable, and charminglybehaved. Lord Welter always used to call her Lady Welter; so they allcalled her Lady Welter too, and treated her as though she were.
But this Lady Welter was soon to be dethroned to make room for Adelaide.A day or two before they went off together, this poor woman got a notefrom Welter to tell her to prepare for a new mistress. It was no blow toher. He had prepared her for it for some time. There might have beentears, wild tears, in private; but what cared he for the tears of suchan one? When Lord Welter and Adelaide came home, and Adelaide came withhim into the hall, she advanced towards her, dressed as a waiting-woman,and said quietly,
"You are welcome home, madam."
It was Ellen, and Lord Welter was the delinquent, as you have guessedalready. When she fled from Ravenshoe, she was flying from the anger ofher supposed brother William; for he thought he knew all about it; and,when Charles Marston saw her passing round the cliff, she was making herweary way on foot towards Exeter to join him in London. After she wasmissed, William had written to Lord Welter, earnestly begging him totell him if he had heard of her. And Welter had written back to him thathe knew nothing, on his honour. Alas for Welter's honour, and William'sfolly in believing him!
Poor Ellen! Lord Welter had thought that she would have left the house,and had
good reason for thinking so. But, when he got home, there shewas. All her finery cast away, dressed plainly and quietly. And thereshe stayed, waiting on Adelaide, demure and quiet as a waiting-womanshould be. Adelaide had never been to Ravenshoe, and did not know her.Lord Welter had calculated on her going; but she stayed on. Why?
You must bear with me, indeed you must, at such times as these. I touchas lightly as I can; but I have undertaken to tell a story, and I musttell it. These things are going on about us, and we try to ignore them,till they are thrust rudely upon us, as they are twenty times a year. NoEnglish story about young men could be complete without bringing insubjects which some may think best left alone. Let us comfort ourselveswith one great, undeniable fact--the immense improvement in morals whichhas taken place in the last ten years. The very outcry which is nowraised against such relations shows plainly one thing at least--thatundeniable facts are being winked at no longer, and that some reform iscoming. Every younger son who can command L200 a year ought to beallowed to marry in his own rank in life, whatever that may be. Theywill be uncomfortable, and have to save and push; and a very good thingfor them. They won't lose caste. There are some things worse than merediscomfort. Let us look at bare facts, which no one dare deny. There isin the great world, and the upper middle-class world too, a crowd ofcadets; younger sons, clerks, officers in the army, and so on;non-marrying men, as the slang goes, who are asked out to dine and dancewith girls who are their equals in rank, and who have every opportunityof falling in love with them. And yet if one of this numerous crowd wereto dare to fall in love with, and to propose to, one of these girls, hewould be denied the house. It is the fathers and mothers who are toblame, to a great extent, for the very connexions they denounce soloudly. But yet the very outcry they are raising against theseconnexions is a hopeful sign.
Lieutenant Hornby, walking up and down the earth to see what mischief hecould get into, had done a smart stroke of business in that way, bymaking the acquaintance of Lord Welter at a gambling-house. Hornby was avery good fellow. He had two great pleasures in life. One, I am happy tosay, was soldiering, at which he worked like a horse, and the other, Iam very sorry to say, was gambling, at which he worked a great dealharder than he should. He was a marked man among professional players.Every one knew how awfully rich he was, and every one in succession hada "shy" at him. He was not at all particular. He would accept a battlewith any one. Gaming men did all sorts of dirty things to get introducedto him, and play with him. The greater number of them had their wickedwill; but the worst of it was that he always won. Sometimes, at a gameof chance, he might lose enough to encourage his enemies to go on; butat games of skill no one could touch him. His billiard playing wassimply masterly. And Dick Ferrers will tell you, that he and Hornby,being once, I am very sorry to say, together at G--n--ch F--r, wereaccosted in the park by a skittle-sharper, and that Hornby (who would,like Faust, have played chess with Old Gooseberry) allowed himself to betaken into a skittle-ground, from which he came out in half an hourvictorious over the skittle-sharper, beating him easily.
In the heyday of his fame, Lord Welter was told of him, and saying,"Give me the daggers," got introduced to him. They had a tournament at_ecarte_, or billiards, or something or another of that sort, it don'tmatter; and Lord Welter asked him up to St. John's Wood, where he sawEllen.
He lost that night liberally, as he could afford to; and, with verylittle persuasion, was induced to come there the next. He lost liberallyagain. He had fallen in love with Ellen.
Lord Welter saw it, and made use of it as a bait to draw on Hornby toplay. Ellen's presence was, of course, a great attraction to him, and hecame and played; but unluckily for Lord Welter, after a few nights hisluck changed, or he took more care, and he began to win again; so muchso that, about the time when Adelaide came home, my Lord Welter had hadnearly enough of Lieutenant Hornby, and was in hopes that he should havegot rid of Ellen and him together; for his lordship was no fool aboutsome things, and saw plainly this--that Hornby was passionately fond ofEllen, and, moreover, that poor Ellen had fallen deeply in love withHornby.
So, when he came home, he was surprised and angry to find her there. Shewould not go. She would stay and wait on Adelaide. She had been asked togo; but had refused sharply the man she loved. Poor girl, she had herreasons; and we shall see what they were. Now you know what I meant whenI wondered whether or no Charles would have burnt Hornby's house down ifhe had known all. But you will be rather inclined to forgive Hornbypresently, as Charles did when he came to know everything.
But the consequence of Ellen's staying on as servant to Adelaide broughtthis with it, that Hornby determined that he would have the _entree_ ofthe house at St. John's Wood, at any price. Lord Welter guessed this,and guessed that Hornby would be inclined to lose a little money inorder to gain it. When he brushed Charles's knee in Piccadilly he wasdeliberating whether or no he should ask him back there again. As hestood unconsciously, almost touching Charles, he came to thedetermination that he would try what bargain he could make with thehonour of Charles's sister, whom he had so shamefully injured already.And Charles saw them make the appointment together in the balcony. Howlittle he guessed for what!
Lord Hainault was right. Welter was a scoundrel. But Hornby was not, aswe shall see.
Hornby loved play for play's sake. And, extravagant dandy though he was,the attorney blood of his father came out sometimes so strong in himthat, although he would have paid any price to be near, and speak toEllen, yet he could not help winning, to Lord Welter's great disgust,and his own great amusement. Their game, I believe, was generally_picquet_ or _ecarte_, and at both these he was Lord Welter's master.What with his luck and his superior play, it was very hard to losedecently sometimes; and sometimes, as I said, he would cast his plans tothe winds and win terribly. But he always repented when he saw LordWelter get savage, and lost dutifully, though at times he could barelykeep his countenance. Nevertheless the balance he allowed to Lord Weltermade a very important item in that gentleman's somewhat precariousincome.
But, in spite of all his sacrifices, he but rarely got even a glimpse ofEllen. And, to complicate matters, Adelaide, who sat by and watched theplay, and saw Hornby purposely losing at times, got it into her sillyhead that he was in love with her. She liked the man--who did not? Butshe had honour enough left to be rude to him. Hornby saw all this, andwas amused. I often think that it must have been a fine spectacle, tosee the honourable man playing with the scoundrel, and give him just asmuch line as he chose. And, when I call Hornby an honourable man, I meanwhat I say, as you will see.
This was the state of things when the Derby crash came. At half-pastfive on that day, the Viscountess Welter dashed up to her elegantresidence in St. John's Wood, in a splendid barouche, drawn by fourhorses, and, when "her people" came and opened the door and let down thesteps, lazily descended, and followed by her footman bearing herfal-lals, lounged up the steps as if life were really too _ennuyant_ tobe borne any longer. Three hours afterwards, a fierce, eager woman,plainly dressed, with a dark veil, was taking apartments in the BridgeHotel, London Bridge, for Mr. and Mrs. Staunton, who were going abroadin a few days; and was overseeing, with her confidential servant, astaid man in black, the safe stowage of numerous hasped oak boxes, themost remarkable thing about which was their great weight. The lady wasLady Welter, and the man was Lord Welter's confidential scoundrel. Thelandlord thought they had robbed Hunt and Roskell's, and were off withthe plunder, till he overheard the man say, "I think that is all, mylady;" after which he was quite satisfied. The fact was, that all theAscot race plate, gold salvers and epergnes, silver cups rough withdesigns of the chase, and possibly also some of the Ascot family jewels,were so disgusted with the state of things in England, that they werethinking of going for a little trip on the Continent. What should adutiful wife do but see to their safe stowage? If any enterprisingburglar had taken it into his head to "crack" that particular "crib"known as the Bridge Hotel, and got clear off with the "swag," he mighthave re
tired on the hard-earned fruits of a well-spent life into happierlands--might have been "run" for M.L.C., or possibly for Congress in ayear or two. Who can tell?
And, also, if Lord Welter's confidential scoundrel had taken it into hishead to waylay and rob his lordship's noble consort on her wayhome--which he was quite capable of doing--and if he also had got clearoff, he would have found himself a better man by seven hundred andninety-four pounds, three half-crowns, and a threepenny-piece; that is,if he had done it before her ladyship had paid the cabman. But both theburglars and the valet missed the tide, and the latter regrets it tothis day.
At eleven o'clock that night, Lady Welter was lolling leisurely on herdrawing-room sofa, quite bored to death. When Lord Welter, and Hornby,and Sir Robert Ferrers, and some Dragoons came in, she was yawning, asif life was really too much of a plague to be endured. Would she playloo? Oh, yes; anything after such a wretched, lonely evening. That wasthe game where you had three cards, wasn't it, and you needn't go onunless you liked. Would Welter or some one lend her some money. She hadgot a threepenny-piece and a shilling somewhere or another, but thatwould not be enough, she supposed. Where was Sir Robert's littlebrother! Gone to bed? How tiresome; she had fallen in love with him, andhad set her heart on seeing him to-night. And so on.
Lord Welter gave her a key, and told her there was some money in hisdressing-case. As she left the room, Hornby, who was watching them, sawa quick look of intelligence pass between them, and laughed in hissleeve.
I have been given to understand that guinea unlimited loo is a charmingpursuit, soothing to the feelings, and highly improving to the moraltone. I speak from hearsay, as circumstances over which I have nocontrol have prevented my ever trying it. But this I know--that, if LordWelter's valet had robbed his master and mistress, when they went to bedthat night, instead of netting seven hundred and ninety-four, seven,nine, he would have netted eleven hundred and forty-six, eight, six;leaving out the threepenny-piece. But he didn't do it; and Lord and LadyWelter slept that sleep which is the peculiar reward of a quietconscience undisturbed.
But, next morning, when Charles waited on Hornby, in his dressing-room,the latter said--
"I shall want you to-night, lad. I thought I might have last night; but,seeing the other fellows went, I left you at home. Be ready at half-pastsix. I lost a hundred and twenty pounds last night. I don't mean toafford it any longer. I shall stop it."
"Where are we to go to, sir?"
"To St. John's Wood. We shall be up late. Leave the servant's hall, andcome up and lie in the hall, as if you were asleep. Don't let yourselfbe seen. No one will notice you."
Charles little thought where he was going.