"Scandal! Scandal!" murmured a meek member, blessed with a spouse whose looks prevented temptation. "Kaimes has dined with us many times, but I never saw----"
"No;youwouldn't," struck in a sporting baronet, whom Leah snubbed on every possible occasion. "Jim likes red-haired women."
"Then why doesn't he stick to the one he's legally entitled to?"
"Because she sticks to him. If she'd only syndicate her admirers in the D. C., Jim 'ud be after her like an Indian mosquito in search of a new arrival. I'll bet there's some petticoat in this Jamaica business;" and the sportsman looked round for some one to pander to his besetting sin--but no one gave him a chance of committing it.
Contradiction and argument arrived with the oldest inhabitant of Clubland, whose memory was as exasperating as his verbosity. "Wrong! All wrong," he purred, like the tame cat he had been for half a century. "Kaimes is really consumptive. I remember his grandmother dying of tuberculosis. It's in the family, along with gout and water on the brain."
"Oh, bosh! If Jim was sick, he'd sin more judiciously."
"I never knew that damnation depended upon health," was the retort. "Take a case in point. During the Great Exhibition----"
Leah's admirer cut short a much-dreaded anecdote. "She'll make a lovely widow."
"I don't believe in second-hand brides myself," said the horsey man, venturing an epigram. "'Sides, her tongue--cuts like a knife. Even the mares shy when she kicks."
"Wit! wit!" explained the admirer, who misread French memoirs. "She is Madame de Rambouillet--without a history."
"Hum! She hasn't published one yet, but I dare say----"
"Tut! tut!" interrupted the ancient. "Madame de Rambouillet was, and Lady James is, entirely respectable."
"And the horse is the noblest of all animals," snapped the baronet.
"Maybe, though the beast doesn't improve your morals," and the laugh was with the oldest inhabitant.
"Wonder if Kaimes will die," pondered the man who saw Leah as a probable widow and a possible wife.
"Lay you ten to five he won't."
"You will lose; you will most assuredly lose," said the octogenarian. "Very consumptive family, the Kaimes. And our friend is just the sort of healthy man to depart suddenly."
"Where to?" asked the pigeon.
"Hu-s-s-sh!" droned the meek member; "that's a serious question."
"To Jim!" finished the racing man, smartly; "but I don't care. Jim, dead or alive, is equally useless to me."
"Oh! He isn't in your debt, then?"
"Catch me trusting him--not much. But what's the use of talking obituary notices? Let's bridge."
"If your play is as bad as your grammar, I prefer to stand out," said Methuselah, and the symposium broke up, in time to prevent bickering between crabbed age and irreverent youth.
There were many such talks during the nine minutes' wonder of Jim's unexpected sickness, and it was generally considered that he would return in spirits of wine to the family vault. Leah did not hear these encouraging prognostications, so conducive to the entire success of the plot. She was tolerating life at San Remo, under the hired roof of a truly great dame, who wished to disentangle her from the golden nets of ultra-fast society. A grass-widow has to be more careful to keep up appearances than the genuine crape article, even at the risk of being bored by highly placed humanity, as dull as stainless. Lady Hengist and her friends belonged to that seventh heaven where newly rich Peris and the Mammons who cocker them seek admittance in vain. Social laws differ from those of nature, inasmuch as the gilded scum does not invariably rise to the top. Hence the creation of the over-discussed smart set, which is taken by the suburban reader of back stairs journalism as representative of the British aristocracy.
Lord Hengist came of an autochthonous family which had been at home when William the Conqueror raided the ancestral cabin. His wife was descended from a knight who emigrated from Normandy in 1066, with apparently several million others, judging by the claims put forward by those who enter the peerage. This alliance--they were too great to talk of mere marriage--resulted in two children, not made of ordinary clay, but compounded of the superlative porcelain sort. Their parents possessed a genuine mediæval castle, as uncomfortable as the builders knew how to make it, and which had the rare distinction of possessing a state-bedroom in which Elizabeth had never slept. The family archives read like the Book of Numbers, and their ancestors had made history at opulent wages for the benefit of the Hengist coffers. The men had sided with the Stewarts and ratted to the Guelphs; the women bloomed in Lely and Kneller portraits in loosely slipping clothes, with pastoral accessories; and finally, the present head of the house, with four seats, two children, a charming wife and a large income, lived comfortably on the loot of ages. Of all these things Lord and Lady Hengist were so proud that they had no need to exhibit pride.
Well-born as Leah Kaimes was, the pleasant, if somewhat stately and stiff, life of these genuine rulers wearied her intensely. Bread and milk is insipid after a repast of ortolans in aspic, and a motor-flight is more exhilarating than a donkey-ride. Moreover, it annoyed her to see how sensibly the Hengists spent their many pounds a day. They could have had much more fun for the money, had they known the right shops; but they patronised out-of-date establishments, where the goods were of an excellent quality, but just five minutes behind the newest things. Of course, this was Leah's figurative way of saying that the Hengists came out of the Ark. They always bought the wrong things at the wrong shops, and had a middle-class eye to the lasting quality of the goods they purchased. They were clothed rather than dressed, and being colour-blind, invariably chose garments which matched abominably with their complexions. In a word, the Hengists were so commonplace as to be original. Lady Jim could not understand why they should have been thrust into positions which they could not fill. It was like bringing cows into the drawing-room.
"It's so hard for me to taste the pleasures of self-denial," complained Hengist, one day, as they sauntered on the promenade.
"I don't think it is wise to attempt the extraction of sunbeams from cucumbers," said Leah, dryly.
"Dean Swift said that, but he was an egotist," replied Hengist, in his serious way, that reminded Lady Jim of Lionel at his worst. "It is more blessed to give than to receive, you know."
"Is it, indeed? Who said so?"
"The wisest and most loving of mankind. And it is a true saying. I assure you, that if I deny myself something I greatly desire, and send the money which would have purchased the gratification to a charity, I feel absolutely happy."
"I don't think I ever tried that experiment."
"You will not know true happiness till you do, Lady James."
"Then I must make a bid for Paradise," she answered, privately thinking that the man talked sad nonsense.
"It's a dreadful thing to be able to have the moon for the asking," went on Hengist, reflectively.
"That's your epigrammatic way of putting it, I suppose; but the moon won't drop from her sphere for me, howl as I may. You are very lucky to command the planet, Lord Hengist."
"So the world thinks, but it forgets that there is the curse of satiety."
"Is there? I never knew it existed. I only wish I could cram the twelve hours of the day with twenty-four of pleasure."
"Have you ever had everything you wished for, Lady James?"
"No!" said Leah, promptly. "I'd have the sun as well as the moon, and the stars thrown in, if I had my way."
"Only to be bored by the acquisition of the lot."
"Me bored--oh dear no! I am too stupid. It is only clever people like yourself who suffer from ennui. I only wish I were a Roman empress, with provinces for a dowry. Those dear women knew how to live."
"But in the majestic pages of Gibbon----"
"Who? Oh, that man who came to think he was the Roman Empire. Now his work would bore me--I'm not stupid enough to appreciate him."
"Julia"--this was Lady Hengist--"Julia and I read Gibbon during the honeymoon, and received much instruction."
"Oh, Lord!" said Lady Jim; "as though honeymoons were not disagreeable enough without that!" The idea made her laugh consumedly. In her mind's eye she saw this new Paolo and Francesca reading heavy prose in ten volumes. But Hengist did not even smile--he had absolutely no sense of humour. Besides, he considered his companion's chatter painfully frivolous, and sighed to think that she had such a light nature. Leah, still laughing, glanced sideways. "I shall begin to think you are discontented, Lord Hengist."
"I am, that I cannot do the good I should like to do. Both Julia and I wish to benefit mankind."
"The twelve labours of Hercules, with no thanks for their accomplishment."
"We don't want thanks, but results," said Hengist, austerely; "and we can commence in a small way. Next summer we intend to invite five hundred Whitechapel children to the Castle. Will you come and help us to entertain them, Lady James?"
"Delighted," yawned Leah, for the man spoke like a copy-book; "but I hope you'll wash them first. It will prevent disease, and give some new soap a philanthropic advertisement."
Hengist eyed her suspiciously. He was a very, very dull young lord, large-hearted and unintelligent, who took life so seriously that he had almost forgotten how to laugh. England clean, England contented, England happy. He constantly started crusades to bring on a premature millennium, and earned his reward, after the manner of reformers, by being abused in halfpenny newspapers as one who attempted to avert certain revolution, by stuffing the starving with sweets. Lady Jim thought him a bore and a prig, and too virtuous to be amusing. But that he and his wife were of use to her, she would not have endured this presentation of his year-before-last's Tree-of-Knowledge apples. He never plucked fresh fruit, and his Eve was quite as blind as he in discerning up-to-date harvests. Still, Hengist was a sort of bell-wether, leading a flock of prize sheep towards a closely guarded fold. Leah liked the fun and money and adulation of the smart set, but she had no notion of being a shut-out Peri from that dull paradise that the newly rich longed for. Besides, its very dullness gave a fillip to her enjoyment of the larky amusements of those who could not enter the sacred ark.
"I am really very fond of children," she said, to do away with the effect of her last remark. "I wish I had some myself," and she sighed very prettily. "Hilda Frith is more fortunate than I, with her two dear babies."
"Both girls. I fancy Frith would like a son and heir."
"I'm sure he would, and both Jim and I would be the very first to congratulate him."
"Your husband is next in succession?"
"Yes, poor dear! But Frith is strong and healthy, while darling Jim--oh, I can't bear to talk about it."
This was perfectly true. To invent sentimental domestic histories and bewail a husband she detested was difficult, even to a woman of Leah's imagination and tact. But Hengist thought it was very good of her to talk so generously, and paid her serious compliments till she began to think that some unpardonable sin had thrown her into the society of this prosing creature. It was like reading the dictionary, or drinking Homburg waters, or paying bills. The sight of a friend made her gasp with relief, after the manner of a pearl-diver rising to take the air.
"Here's Lady Richardson and Sir Billy," she said with a frown, for her companion's benefit. "So horrid, to interrupt our nice conversation!"
"We can pass them," replied Hengist, decidedly pleased.
"Oh, I don't think so," was Leah's quick reply. "It would look rude; and then, Fanny Richardson never passes any one who will listen to her prattle of chiffons. Besides, Billy is a nice boy--quite a little man. Don't you think so?"
"Too much a man for his years," said her companion, austerely. "I do not like Chesterfields in their teens. The lad's manners are too good--much too good."
"Can any child be much too good?"
"In the wrong way of over-artificiality, yes. Sir William----"
"He likes to be called Sir Billy!"
"So flippant. His mother should insist----"
"She! She never insists on anything, except having the newest dye and the best-cut frock, and a few dozen male ears to pour her babble into. Billy can do no wrong in her eyes, nor in mine. He is such an admirer of women."
"And at the age of thirteen," groaned Hengist.
"Come now, even you must have made love to some pretty pastry-cook's daughter when you were at Eton. There must be some of the old Adam in you, Lord Hengist."
"I was never an entirely modern child," replied the serious man, evasively, and with a sad eye on the trim figure of the rapidly approaching Billy. "To think that he should take dinner pills, and know the difference between sweet and dry champagne! What will the next generation be?"
"Boys and girls," said Leah, flippantly. "Good day, Fanny."
The vivacious little fairy who warmly greeted Lady Jim and her solemn escort was as pretty and fragile and dainty as a Dresden china shepherdess, and quite a credit to the maid who re-created her every morning. There was nothing natural about her, save her genuine adoration of Billy, and that arose from a knowledge that royalty had made it fashionable to exploit the nursery. Blonde and plump, jimp and graceful, dressed in perfect taste, and coloured in the latest fashion, she was popular even with her own discriminating sex. Hengist thought her a respectable doll, with no particular vices, and did not object to having her at the Castle. But he disapproved of Billy the precocious, which was decidedly unfair, as Billy could scarcely help shaping himself to the mould into which he had been slipped by a mother who required his assistance to play the pretty comedy of the widow's only son.
"How are you, Leah darling? So sweet you look, and Lord Hengist too. A most unexpected meeting, and so delightful," babbled Lady Richardson, who talked more and said less than any society gramophone. "Billy and I are just going to Monte Carlo, to plunge on the red. Reggy Lake is to meet us at the station; such a nice boy--Lancers, you know--a great chum of Billy's. Won't you come too, Leah, to brighten Billy up? He's got the hump, poor boy, as his new nerve-tonic doesn't suit him, and such a lovely, lovely day as it is too. Don't you think so, Lord Hengist?"
The respectable Hengist's hair bristled at this incoherent speech, and did not lie down again at the look in Billy's eyes. Dressed in a particularly smart Eton suit, gloved and silk-hatted and patent-leather-booted with fashionable accuracy, the boy appraised Lady Jim's beauty in a calm way, which would have made a captain of dragoons blush. Behind his graceful, nonchalant, handsome mask of youth was hidden an old, old man, and in many ways Hengist was his junior. He certainly blushed when Leah gave him an amused glance, but this was Billy's way of mashing the sex. He knew the value of youthful diffidence, backed by mature knowledge.
"Should not your little boy be at school?" asked Hengist, scandalised into an implied snub.
Sir William looked at the troubled face of his elder with the serenity of a cherub. "Goin' back nex' week," said he, carefully dropping his "g's." "Th' little mother wanted me to look after her for a bit."
"Billy can't trust me out of his sight," giggled Lady Richardson. "He's so afraid I'll give him a second father."
"Not Reggy Lake, anyhow. He's a rotter!"
"What's a rotter, Sir Billy?" asked Lady Jim, enjoying the disgusted looks of Hengist.
"A fellow who rots."
"What an admirable definition?"
Billy rapidly dropped his left eyelid, and showed a set of white teeth. "I don't carry coals toyourNewcastle," he said parabolically. "Say, Lady Jim, chuck this chappy, and come to Charlie's Mount."
The wink and the speech were lost on Hengist, for he was being worried by Lady Richardson. She danced before him, a pretty figure gowned in burnt-almond red, and would have distracted his heart with daintiness but that Julia kept that article in the nursery.
"Do join us, Lord Hengist," she pleaded seductively. "Such fun, when you know the ropes. Billy can show them to you."
"Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings," quoted Hengist, ironically. "Quite a new reading, Lady Richardson."
"Now you are horrid," said the widow, who did not know in the least what he meant. "I'll tell your wife. By the way, how is she, and the darling, darling twins? Twins are too sweet. I wish Billy was a twin."
"One of Sir William is quite sufficient."
"I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about, and it's very horrid of you to say so. Billy is adored."
"Is he ever whipped?"
Lady Richardson gave a scream. "How barbarous! The man who tried to whip Billy would have to order his coffin beforehand. Billy can handle his bunches of fives, I can tell you, Lord Hengist."
"His what?"
"It's Billy's way of putting boxing. You should see him give the postman's knock! Oh, heisclever! He can drive a motor, too, and pick out the winner five times out of ten."
"Does he know the kings of England?"
"No; he hasn't been to Court yet, and of course, there's only one. How funny you are! Well," Lady Richardson put her head on one side like a coaxing cock-robin, "are you coming with Billy and me? Do, oh do! We have afternoon tea with Monsieur Aksakoff and his daughter."
"What's that?" asked Leah, overhearing the names; "the Russian man?"
"Stiff sort of fella'!" said young Eton. "Nothin' birdish about him. Daughter's a clipper, though. Say, little mother, we'd best get. Th' train won't wait, y' know."
Before he had finished speaking Lady Jim had made up her mind. She had not heard from Demetrius, and it was not impossible that he had written to Katinka. In spite of his discouraging love-making he kept in with her, on the chance that she might be able to procure his pardon, and in any case she was useful in keeping him posted in the doings of the Third Section. The girl was so infatuated that she never saw he was making use of her in this way, and constantly wrote to him about any official gossip she heard. There was something pathetic in her devotion and heart-whole love for the man who deceived her. But Leah did not look at the matter in this way. She knew that Katinka, if any one, would have news of the doctor, and being anxious to learn how Garth was progressing towards the grave, she turned to Hengist.
"I think I'll go over," she said in a low voice. "Jim asked me to see M. Aksakoff on some business. Would Julia mind?"
"Not at all," said Hengist, heartily, and quite deceived. "I would escort you, only I have some letters to write about the distress in London."
"Oh, Billy will look after us," said that young gentleman's mother.
"Ihavedriven a team before now," observed Billy, with dignity.
I Hengist gave him a reproving look (which Billy bore very stoically), and whispered to Leah as they parted, "Don't encourage that lad."
"I don't think he needs much encouragement," said Lady Jim, laughing, and the two women walked away with Billy between them. Hengist stood where he was and frowned.
"Charming woman, Lady James," he murmured, gazing after Leah's amethystine gown; "but that lad--ugh!" He shook his head over young England up-to-date; then returned to the villa to hear the twins say the alphabet. Life had its compensations, even for a millionaire peer.
After the happy-go-lucky fashion of Italian officialism, the train was detained for some time at Ventimiglia. Lady Richardson, unsettled as a fly, changed her seat five times, and complained garrulously.
"Captain Lake is so very particular," she explained, producing a pocket-mirror and a powder-puff to repair possible damages. "He can't bear to be kept waiting five minutes."
"Then I should make him wait five hours," replied Leah, calmly. "It doesn't do to spoil men."
"You spoil me," said Sir Billy, audaciously.
"Pooh! You are merely a rascal in the making. I wouldn't hint how we govern your sex, if you were anything but a grub."
The boy laughed complacently. "I'm a very nice grub."
"Very precocious, at all events. You know much more than is good for you. Fanny, you should whip him."
"I haven't the heart or the muscle, my dear. The only safe thing will be to marry a strong man with a bad temper."
"I should jolly well like to see the stepfather who would pitch into me."
"You will, if you don't behave. Isn't that eyebrow a little crooked, Billy?" and she fingered it delicately.
"Don't think so; but you have a smudge of powder on your chin."
"So I have. How horrid! There!" dusting it off. "What a comfort you are to your darling mammy, my own! Kiss me."
Billy brushed her rouge with careful lips, and after a glance to see that he had not blurred the picture, Lady Richardson put away the mirror.
"Thank goodness, we're moving again," she prattled. "I do hope Reggy won't be in a bad temper."
"I'll square that, little mother. Been to the theatres lately, Lady Jim?"
"No," answered Leah, amused by his man-about-town air. "Is there anything good on?"
"Awful stuff," announced Billy, with the conviction, of mature judgment. "Couldn't sit out more than two plays.The Woman with Three Husbandsisn't bad, though. Very French, of course. Saw it four times before I told the little mother she couldn't face it."
"How alluring! Will you take me?"
Billy was obviously shocked. "No woman should see that piece. I can stand heaps, but----" an after-me-the-deluge shrug hinted at the degradation of the drama.
"Yes, poor darling," chimed in his mother; "he was blushing three inches deep all over when he came home."
"I am glad to hear that Billy can blush at all," murmured Lady Jim. "How's the betting, William?"
"Tolerable! I pulled off a fiver on Fly-by-Night; but a man in my form lost a tenner, silly juggins."
"Oh! How old is that man?"
"Sixteen, and thinks he's twenty. Awfully saucy chap though. Went nap on a girl, and another fella' scooped th' pool."
"Don't they teach English at Eton, Billy?"
The youth was quite undisturbed. "Try to," he assured her; "but there's no snap about the classical rot they give us. Oh, here we are."
"And there is Reggy," cried Lady Richardson, craning her dyed head out of the window like another Jezebel. "How d'y do, Captain Lake? Lovely day! So sorry we're late. You know Lady James Kaimes?"
"I have that pleasure," said the tall young soldier, saluting. "Very sorry to hear your husband is ill, Lady James."
"Thanks! But I daresay Jamaica will pull him round, Captain Lake."
"Hope it won't," breathed Billy, at her elbow, as the lift soared.
"Why, you horrid little boy?"