CHAPTER VII
GENEROSITY OF A FATHER
With grim irony Harry congratulated himself on his decision. When firsthe came into the house he heard Alison singing. There was indeed (as hetold himself clearly) nothing wonderful about her voice--it resembledthe divine only in being still and small. Yet he could not (he calledhimself still more clearly a fool) keep away from it, and so he slunkinto Lady Waverton's drawing-room. Only duty and stated hours were wontto drag him there. Lady Waverton showed her appreciation of his unusualattendance by staring at him across the massed trifles of the room withsleepy and insolent amazement. But it was not the glassy eyes of LadyWaverton which convinced Harry that flight was the true wisdom. OverAlison at the harpsichord, Geoffrey hung tenderly: their shoulderstouched, eyes answered eyes, and miss was radiant. She sang at him with anaughty archness that song of Mr. Congreve's:
"Thus to a ripe consenting maid,Poor old repenting Delia said,Would you long preserve your lover? Would you still his goddess reign?Never let him all discover, Never let him much obtain.
Men will admire, adore and dieWhile wishing at your feet they lie;But admitting their embraces Wakes 'em from the golden dream:Nothing's new besides our faces, Every woman is the same."
She contorted her own face into smug folly by way of illustration. Thenshe and Geoffrey laughed together. "I vow you're the most deliciouslywicked creature that ever was born a maid."
"D'ye regret it, sir? Faith, I could not well be born a wife."
"No, ma'am, that's an honour to be won by care and pains."
"Pains! Lud, yes, I believe that. But, dear sir, I reckon it thepunishment for folly. Why,"--she chose to see Harry--"why, here is ourknight of the rueful countenance!"
Mr. Waverton laughed. "It is related of the Egyptians--"
"God help us," Alison murmured.
He went on, giggling. "It is related of the Ancient Egyptians that theyever had a corpse among the guests at their feasts."
"Were their cooks so bad?" said Alison.
"To remind them that all men are mortal. Now you see why we keep Harry."
"I wonder if he looked as happy when he was alive," said Alison,surveying his wooden face.
"_De mortuis nil nisi bonum_," Geoffrey laughed. "No jests about thedead, Alison. But to tell you a secret, he never was alive. He doesn'tlike it known."
Colonel Boyce, who had listened to the song and the firstcoruscations of wit with the condescending smile of a connoisseur,now exhibited some impatience. "Egad, Harry, why will you dress likea parson out at elbows?"
"His customary suit of solemn black," said Geoffrey.
"He is in mourning for himself, of course," Alison laughed.
"I have two suits of clothes, ma'am," said Harry meekly. "This isthe better."
"Poor Harry!" Geoffrey granted him a look of protective affection. "I vowwe are too hard on him, Alison." And then in a lower voice for herprivate ear. "A dear, worthy fellow, but--well, what would you have?--ofno spirit." Alison bit her lip.
"Oh, Mr. Waverton," Harry protested, "indeed, I am proud to be the causeof such wit."
Colonel Boyce stared at his son with an enigmatic frown. Alison's eyesbrightened. But Geoffrey suspected no guile. "Not witty thyself, dearlad, but the cause of wit in others, eh? Odds life, Harry, you areinvaluable."
"'Tis your kindness for me makes you think so, Mr. Waverton. And, to besure, I could ask no more than to amuse your lady."
Alison said tartly, "Oh, it takes little to amuse me, sir."
"I am sure, ma'am," Harry agreed meekly.
"It's a happy nature." and he bowed to Geoffrey, humbly congratulatinghim on a lady of such simple tastes.
Geoffrey, who had now had enough of his good tutor, eliminated him by acompliment or so on Alison's voice and the demand that she should singagain. He found her in an awkward temper. She would not sing this, shewould not sing that, she found faults in every song known to Mr.Waverton. Yet in a fashion she was encouraging. For this new method ofkeeping him off was governed by a queer adulation of him: no song in theworld could be worth his distinguished attention; her little voice mustbe to his accomplished ear vain and ludicrous; the kind things he was sogood as to say were vastly gratifying, to be sure, but they were merelyhis kind condescension. And, oh Lud, it was time she was gone, or poor,dear Weston would be imagining her slaughtered on the highway.
Geoffrey could not make much of this, but was pleased to take it asflattering feminine homage to his magnificence. By way of reward, heannounced an intention of riding home with her carriage. "Faith, you aretoo good"--her eyes were modestly hidden--"but then you are too good toeverybody. Is he not, Mr. Boyce?"
"Oh, ma'am, we all practise on his kindness," Harry said.
"A good night to your mourning," she said sharply, "dear Lady Waverton."They kissed. "Colonel Boyce, I hold you to your promise."
"With all my heart, ma'am. Your devoted."
She was gone, and Harry, with a look of significance at his father, wentoff too....
In that shabby upper chamber of his, Harry again offered the Colonel achoice between the bed and the one chair. Colonel Boyce made a gestureand an exclamation of impatience, and remained standing. "Now, what thedevil do you want with me?" he complained.
"I want to be very grateful. I want to enlist with you. When shallwe start?"
His father frowned, and in a little while made a crooked answer, "Do youknow, Harry, you are too mighty subtle. I was so at your years. It's verypretty sport, but--well, it won't butter your parsnips. The women can'ttell what to make of it. Having, in general, no humour, prettycreatures."
"I am obliged for the sermon, sir. Shall we leave to-morrow?"
"Egad, you are in a fluster," his father smiled. "Well, to be sure, he isa teasing fellow, the beautiful Geoffrey."
Harry made an exclamation. "You'll forgive me, sir, if I say you aretalking nonsense."
"Oh Lud, yes," his father chuckled.
"Whether I am agreeable to women, whether Mr. Waverton is agreeable tome--odds life, sir, I don't trouble my head about such things. Pray,why should you? As well sit down and cry because my eyes are not thesame colour."
"No. No. There is something taking about that, Harry," his fatherremonstrated placidly.
"When you please to be in earnest, sir," Harry cried, "if this affair ofyours is in earnest--" "Oh, you may count on that." Colonel Boyce wasstill enjoying himself.
"Then I am ready for it. And the sooner the better."
"Hurry is a bad horse. The truth is, something more hangs on this affairthan Mr. Harry's whims. Oh, damme, I don't blame you, though. He istiresome, our Geoffrey."
"Why, sir, if we have to waste time, we might waste it more comfortablythan with the Waverton family. Shall we say to-morrow?"
Colonel Boyce tapped his still excellent teeth. "Patience, patience," hesaid, and considered his son gravely. "As for to-morrow, I have friendsto see, and so have you. Your pretty miss engaged me to ride over withyou to her house. And behind the brave Geoffrey's back, if you please.She is a sly puss, Harry." He expected so obviously an angry answer thatHarry chose to disappoint him.
"I shall be happy to take leave of Miss Lambourne. And shall I ridepillion with you, sir? For I have no horse of my own."
"Bah, dear Geoffrey will lend me the best in the stable."
"I give you joy of the progress in his affections."
Colonel Boyce laughed. "You are pledged for the forenoon then," hepaused. "And as to that little affair of mine--you shall know your partsoon enough."
"It cannot be too soon, sir."
"No." Colonel Boyce nodded. "I think it's full time."
He took leave of his son with what the son thought superfluousaffection.
Half an hour afterwards he was in Mr. Waverton's room--a place veryprecious. Everything in it--and there were many things--had an air ofbeing strange. Mr. Waverton slept behind curtains of black and silver.His floor was covered with some stuff like scarlet velvet. There
was askull in the place of honour on the walls, flanked by two Venetianpictures of the Virgin, and faced by a blowsy Bacchus and Ariadne fromFlanders. The chairs were of the newest Italian mode, designed rather tocarry as much gilding as possible than to comfort the human form. ColonelBoyce, regarding them with some apprehension, stood himself before thefire and waved off Geoffrey's effusive courtesy.
"I hope you have good news for me, Mr. Waverton?" So he opened theattack.
"Why, sir, I have considered my engagements," Geoffrey saidmagnificently. "I believe I could hold myself free for some months--ifthe enterprise were of weight."
"You relieve me vastly. I'll not disguise from you, Mr. Waverton, that Iam something anxious to secure you. I could not find a gentleman so wellequipped for this delicate business. You'll observe, 'tis of the firstimportance that we should have presence, an air, the _je ne sais quoi_ ofdignity and family."
"Sir, you are very obliging." Geoffrey swallowed it whole.
"When I came here I confess I was at my wit's end. Indeed, I had a mindto go alone. The gentlemen of my acquaintance--either they could not betrusted with an affair of such value, or they had too much of our Englishcoarseness to be at ease with it. Faith, when I came to see my poor, dearHarry, little I thought that in his neighbourhood I should find the veryman for my embassy." The two gentlemen laughed together over theincompatibility of Harry with gentlemanly diplomacy.
"Not but what Harry is a faithful, trusty fellow," said Mr. Waverton,with magnificent condescension.
"You are very good to say so. A dolt, sir, a dolt; so much the worse forme. Now, Mr. Waverton, to you I have no need of a word more on thesecrecy of the affair. Though, to be sure, this very morning I hadanother note from Cadogan--Marlborough's _ame damnee_ you know--pressingit on me that nothing should get abroad. So when we go, we'll be offwithout a good-bye, and if you must leave a word behind for the anxietiesof my lady, let her know that you are off with me to see the army inFlanders."
"I profess, Colonel, you are mighty cautious."
"Dear sir, we cannot be too cautious in this affair. There's many ahandsome scheme gone awry for the sake of some affectionate farewell.Mothers, wives, lady-loves--sweet luxuries, Mr. Waverton, but damneddangerous. Now here's my plan. We'll go riding on an afternoon and notcome back again. Trust my servant to get away quietly with your baggageand mine. We must travel light, to be sure. We'll go round London. I havetoo many friends there, and I want none of them asking where old NollBoyce is off to now. Newhaven is the port for us. There is a trustyfellow there has his orders already. I look to land at Le Havre. Now, thePrince, by our latest news, is back at St. Germain. As you can guess, Mr.Waverton, to be seen in Paris would suit my health even less than to beseen in London. Too many honest Frenchmen have met me in the wars, and,what's worse, too many of them know me deep in Marlborough's business. Icould not show my face without all King Louis's court talking of somegreat matter afoot. What I have in mind is to halt on the road--atPontoise maybe--while you ride on with letters to Prince James. I warrantyou they are such, and with such names to them, as will assure you anoble welcome. It's intended that he should quit St. Germain privatelywith you to conduct him to me. Then I warrant you we shall know how todeal with the lad." He paused and stared at Geoffrey intently, andgradually a grim humour stole into his eyes. He began to laugh. "Egad, Ienvy you, Mr. Waverton. To be in such an affair at your years--bah, Ishould have been crazy with pride."
"You need not doubt that I value the occasion, sir," Geoffrey saidgrandly. "Pray, believe that I shall do honour to your confidence."
"To be sure you will. Odds life, to chaffer with a king's son aboutkingdoms, to offer a realm to a prince in exile (if only he will be agood boy)--it's a fine, stately affair, sir, and you are the very man totake it in the right vein."
"Sir, you are most obliging. I profess I vaunt myself very happy in yourkindness. Be sure that I shall know how to justify you."
"Egad, you do already," Colonel Boyce smiled, still with some touch ofcruelty in his eyes.
"Pray, sir, when must we start?"
"When I know, maybe I shall need to start in an hour."
"I shall not fail you. I shall want, I suppose, some funds in hand?"
Colonel Boyce shrugged. "Oh Lud, yes, we'll want some money. A matter offive hundred pounds should serve."
"I will arrange for it in the morning," said Mr. Waverton, toomagnificent to be startled. "Pray, what clothes shall we be ableto carry?"
"Damme, that's a grave matter," said Colonel Boyce, and with becominggravity discussed it.