CHAPTER II
THE LADY ANASTASIA
The Lady Anastasia was in her dressing-room in the hands of herfriseur, the French hairdresser, and her maid. She sat in a dishabillewhich was a loose robe, called, I believe a nightgown, of pink silk,trimmed with lace, which showed the greater part of a very well shapedarm; she had one slipper off and one slipper on, which showed a verysmall and well shaped foot, but no one was there to see. Her maid wasbusy at the toilette table which was covered with glass bottlescontaining liquids of attractive colour; silver patch boxes; powderboxes; powder puffs; cosmetics in pots, and other mysterious secretsinto which it would be useless and fruitless to inquire. The artist,for his part, was laboriously and conscientiously building theedifice--object of so much ingenuity and thought--called a "Head."
She was in the best temper imaginable. When you hear that she had wonovernight the sum of a hundred and twenty guineas you will understandthat she had exactly that number of reasons for being satisfied withthe world. Moreover, she had received from an admirer a present in theshape of a piece of china representing a monkey, which, she reflectedwith satisfaction, would awaken in the minds of her friends thekeenest feelings of envy, jealousy, hatred, longing, and despair.
The Lady Anastasia was the young widow of an old baronet: she was alsothe daughter of an earl and the sister of his successor. She thereforeenjoyed the freedom of a widow; the happiness natural to youth; andall the privileges of rank. No woman could be happier. It was reportedthat her love of the card table had greatly impaired her income: theworld said that her own private dowry was wholly gone and a large partof her jointure. But it is a spiteful world--all that was known forcertain was that she played much and that she played high. PerhapsFortune, in a mood of penitence, was giving back what she hadpreviously taken away. The contrary is commonly the case, viz, thatFortune, which certainly takes away with alacrity, restores withreluctance.
Perhaps, however, the reports were not true.
She kept a small establishment in Mount Street: her people consistedof no more than two footmen, a butler, a lady's maid, a housekeeper,and three or four maids with two chairmen. She did not live as a richwoman: she received, it is true, twice a week, on Sundays andWednesdays, but not with any expense of supper and wine. Her friendscame to play cards and she held the bank for them. On other eveningsshe went out and played at the houses of her friends.
Except for fashions and her dress--what fine woman but makes thatexception?--she had no other occupation; no other pursuit; no othersubject of conversation, than the playing of cards. She played at allgames and knew them all; she sat down with a willing mind to Ombre,Faro, Quadrille, Basset, Loo, Cribbage, All Fours, or Beggar myNeighbour, but mostly she preferred the game of Hazard, when sheherself kept the bank. It is a game which more than any other alluresand draws on the player so that a young man who has never before beenknown to set a guinea on any card, or to play at any game, will in asingle night be filled with all the ardour and eagerness of apractised gamester; will know the extremes of joy and despair; andwill regard the largest fortune as bestowed by Providence for no otherpurpose than to prolong the excitement and the agony of a gamester.
While the Lady Anastasia was still admiring the china vase set uponthe table, so that she might gaze upon it and so refresh her soul, andwhile the friseur was still completing her head, Lord Fylingdale wasannounced. The lady blushed violently: she sat up and looked anxiouslyin the glass.
"Betty," she cried, "a touch of red--not much, you clumsy creature!Will you never learn to have a lighter hand? So! that is better. I amhorribly pale. His lordship can wait in the morning room. You havenearly finished, monsieur? Quick then! The last touches. Betty, theflowered satin petticoat. My fan. The pearl necklace. So," she lookedagain at the glass, "am I looking tolerable, Betty?"
"Your ladyship is ravishing," said Betty finishing the toilette. Intruth, it was a very pretty creature if one knew how much was real andhow much was due to art. The complexion was certainly laid on; thehair was powdered and built up over cushions and pillows; there werepatches on the cheek: the neck was powdered; eyes naturally very finewere set off and made more lustrous with a touch of dark powder: thefrock and petticoat and hoop were all alike removed from nature.However, the result was a beautiful woman of fashion who is farremoved indeed from the beautiful woman as made by the Creator. Forher age the Lady Anastasia might have been seven and twenty, or eventhirty--an age when with some women, the maturity of their beauty iseven more charming than the first sprightly loveliness of youth.
She swam out of the room with a gliding movement, then the fashion,and entered the morning room where Lord Fylingdale awaited her.
"Anastasia!" he said, softly, taking her hand. "It is very good of youto see me alone. I feared you would be surrounded with courtiers andfine ladies or with singers, musicians, hairdressers, and otherbaboons. Permit me," he raised her hand to his lips. "You look divinethis morning. It is long since I have seen you look so perfectlycharming."
The lady murmured something. She was one of those women who like aboveall things to hear praises of what most they prize, their beauty, andto believe what they most desire to be the truth, the preservation andperfecting of that beauty.
"But you came to see me alone. Was it to tell me that I look charming?Other men tell me as much in company."
"Not altogether that, dear lady, though that is something. I come totell you of a change of plans."
"You have heard that the grand jury of Middlesex has presented me byname as a corruptor of innocence, and I know not what, because I holdmy bank on Sunday nights."
"I have heard something of the matter. It is almost time, I think, togive these presumptuous shopkeepers a lesson not to interfere with thepursuits of persons of rank. Let them confine themselves to theprentices who play at pitch and toss."
"Oh! what matters their presentment? I shall continue to keep the bankon Sunday nights. Now, my dear lord, what about these plans? What ischanged?"
"We thought, you remember, about going to Tunbridge, in July."
"Well? Shall we not go there?"
"Perhaps. But there is something to be done first. Let me confide inyou----"
"My dear lord--you have never confided in anybody."
"Except in you. I think you know all my secrets if I have any. In whomelse can I confide? In the creatures who importune me for places? Infriends of the green table? In friends of the race course? My dearAnastasia, you know, I assure you, as much about my personal affairsas I know myself."
"If you would always speak so kindly"--her eyes became humid but nottearful. A lady of fashion must not spoil her cheek by tears.
"Well, then, the case is this. You know of the condition of myaffairs--no one better. An opportunity presents itself to effect agreat improvement. I am invited by the highest personage to take amore active part in the affairs of state. No one is to know this. Forreasons connected with this proposal I am to visit a certain town--atrading town--a town of rough sailors, there to conduct certainenquiries. There is to be a gathering at this town of the gentry andpeople of the county. Would you like to go, my dear friend? It will benext month."
"To leave town--and in May, just before the end of the season?"
"There will be opportunities, I am told, of holding a bank; and a goodmany sportsmen--'tis a sporting county--may be expected to lay theirmoney. In a word, Anastasia, it will not be a bad exchange."
"And how can I help you? Why should I go there?"
"By letting the people--the county people, understand the many virtuesand graces which distinguish my character. No one knows me better thanyourself."
The lady smiled--"No one," she murmured.
"--Or can speak with greater authority on the subject. There will becertain of our friends there--the parson--Sir Harry--the colonel----"
"Pah! a beggarly crew--and blown upon--they are dangerous."
"Not at this quiet and secluded town. They will be strangers to you aswell as t
o me. And they will be useful. After all, in such a place youneed an opening. They will lead the way."
The lady made no response.
"I may call it settled, then?" He still held her hand. "If you wouldrather not go, Anastasia, I will find some one else--but I hadhoped----"
She drew away her hand. "You are right," she said, "no one knows youso well as myself. And all I know about you is that you are alwayscontriving some devilry. What is it this time? But you will not tellme. You never tell me."
"Anastasia, you do me an injustice. This is a purely political step."
"As you will. Call it what you please. I am your servant--you knowthat--your handmaid--in all things--save one. Not for any other woman,Ludovick--not for any other--unfortunate--woman will I lift my littlefinger. Should you betray me in this respect----"
He laughed. "A woman? And in that company? Rest easy, dear child. Bejealous as much as you please but not with such a cause."
He touched her cheek with his finger: he stooped and kissed her handand withdrew.
The Lady Anastasia stood awhile where he left her. The joy had goneout of her heart: she trembled: she was seized with a foreboding ofevil. She threw herself upon the sofa and buried her face in herhands, and forgetful of paste and patch and paint she suffered themurderous tears to destroy that work of art--her finished face.