8000
“Seek you wine or seek you maid at the journey's end?
Give to me at every stage the welcome of a friend!”
—Cyd.
9106
O not think that all this time I had lost sight of my new friends, the fair-haired Dick Shafthead and the genial Teddy Lumme. On the contrary, we had had more than one merry night together, and exchanged not a few confidences. Very soon after I was settled, Dick had come round to my rooms and criticised everything, from Halfred to the curtains. His tastes were a trifle too austere to altogether appreciate these latter rather sumptuous hangings.
“They'll do for waistcoats if you ever go on the music-hall stage,” he observed, sardonically. “That's why you got 'em, perhaps?”
“The very reason, my friend,” I replied. “I cannot afford to get both new waistcoats and new curtains; just as I am compelled to employ the same person to get me out of jail and criticise my furniture.”
Dick laughed.
“You are too witty, mossyour.” (He came as near the pronunciation of my title as that.) “You should write some of these things down before you forget 'em.”
“For the French,” I retorted, “that precaution is unnecessary.”
For Halfred, I am sorry to say, he did not at first show that appreciation I had expected.
“Your 'bus-man,” was the epithet he applied behind his back; though I am bound to say his good-breeding made him so polite that Halfred, on his side, conceived the highest opinion of my friend.
“A real gentleman, Mr. Shafthead is, sir,” he confided to me. “What I calls a hunmistakable toff. He hasn't got no side on, and he speaks to one man like as he would to another. In fact, sir, he reminds me of Lord Haugustus I once seed at the Hadelphi; a nobleman what said, 'I treats hevery fellow-Briton as a gentleman so long as Britannia rules the waves and 'e behaves 'isself accordingly.'”
This may seem exaggerated praise, but, indeed, it would be difficult to exaggerate my dear Dick's virtues. Doubtless his faults are being placed in the opposite page of a ledger kept somewhere with his name upon the cover; but that is no business of mine. To paste in parallel columns the virtues of our friends and the faults of ourselves, that may be unpleasant, but it is necessary if we are to turn the search-light inward. Certain weak spots we must not look at too closely if we are to keep our self-respect; but, my faith! we can well give the most of our humanity an airing now and then; also, if possible, a fumigating. It was Dick Shafthead, more than any other, who took my failings for a walk in the sunshine, and somehow or other they always returned a little abashed.
A very different person was his cousin Teddy Lumme, for whom, by-the-way, I discovered Dick had a real regard carefully concealed behind a most satirical attitude. Teddy was not clever—though shrewd enough within strict limits; he was no moralist, no philosopher;an observer chiefly of the things least worth observing—a performer upon the tin-whistle of life. But, owing to his kindness of heart and ingenuous disposition, he was wonderfully likable.
His leisure moments were devoted, I believe, to the discharge of some duty in the foreign office, though what precisely it was I could never, even by the most ingenious cross-examination, discover. His father held the respectable position of Bishop of Battersea; his mother was the Honorable Mrs. Lumme. These excellent parents had a high regard for Teddy, whom they considered likely to make his mark in the world.
I was taken to the bishopric (sic), and discussed with the most venerable Lumme, senior, many points of interest to a foreigner.
Note of a conversation with Bishop of Battersea, taken down from memory a few days after:Myself. “What is the difference between a High Church and a Low Church?”
Bishop. “A High Church has a high conception of its duties towards mankind, religion, the apostolic succession, and the costume of its clergymen. A Low Church has the opposite.”
Myself. “Are you Low Church?”
Bishop. “No.”
Myself. “I understand that the conversion of the Pope is one of your objects. Is that so?”Bishop. “Should the Pope approach us in a proper spirit we should certainly be willing to admit him into our fold.”
Myself. “Have you written many theological works?”
Bishop. “I believe tea is ready.”
Afterwards further discussion on tithes, doctrine, and the Thirty-nine Articles, of which I forget the details.
My friend Teddy did not live at the bishopric with his parents, but in exceedingly well-appointed chambers near St. James Street. Here I met various other young gentlemen of fortune and promise, who discussed with me many questions of international interest—such as the price of champagne in foreign hotels, the status of the music-hall artiste at home and abroad, the best knot for the full-dress tie, and so forth.
Dick Shafthead did not often appear in this company.
“Can't afford their amusements, and can't be bothered with their conversation,” he explained to me. “Look in and have a pipe this evening if you're doing nothing else. If you want cigars, bring your own; I've run out.”
And, after all, learning to perform upon the briar-pipe in Dick's society under the old roof of the Temple, applauding or disapproving of our elders and our betters, had infinitely more charm to me than those intellectual conclaves at his cousin's, for six nights in the week at least. A different mood, a different friend. Sometimes one desires in a companion congenial depravity; at others, more points of contact.
This Temple where Dick lived is not a church, though there is a church within it. It is one of those surprising secrets that London keeps and shows you sometimes to reconcile you to her fogs. Out of the heart of the traffic and the noise you turn through an ancient archway into a rabbit warren of venerable and sober red buildings; each court and passage tidy, sedate, and, if I may say it of a personage of brick, thoughtful and kindly disposed to its inhabitants. This is the Temple, once the home of the Knight Templars, now of English law. In one court Dick shared with a friend an austerely furnished office where he received such work as the solicitors sent him, and was ready to receive more. But it was on the top flight of another staircase in another court-yard that he kept his household gods.
He had come there, as I have said before, during a period of financial depression, and there he had stayed ever since. I do not wonder at it; though, to be sure, I think I should find it rather solitary of an evening, when the offices emptied, silence fell upon the stairs and the quadrangles, and there were only left in the whole vast warren the sprinkling of permanent inhabitants who dwelt under the slates. Yet there was I know not quite what about those old rooms, an aroma of the past, a link with romance, that made them lovable. The panelled walls, the undulating floors, the odd angle which held the fireplace, the beam across the ceiling, the old furniture to match these, all had character; and to what but character do we link sentiment?
Also the prospect from the windows was delightful; an open court, a few trees, the angles of other ancient buildings, a glimpse of green turf in a garden, a peep of more stems and branches, with the Thames beyond. Yes, it was quite the neighborhood for a romantic episode to happen. And one day, as you shall hear in time, it happened.
8000
“And then I came to another castle where lived a giant whose name was John Bull.”
—Maundeville (adapted).
9112
“O you dance?” asked Teddy.
“All night, if you will play to me,” I replied.
“Ride?” said he.
“On a horse? Yes, my friend, I can even ride a horse.”
“Well, then, I say, d'you care to come to a ball at Seneschal Court, the Trevor-Hudson's place; meet next day, and that sort of thing? Dick and I are going. We'll be there about a week.”
“But I do not know the—the very excellent people you have named.”
“Oh, that's all right,” said Teddy. “They want a man or two. So few men dance nowadays, don't you know. I keep it up myself a little; girls get sick if I don't hop round with 'em now and then. Hullo, I see you've got a card from my mater, for the twenty-ninth. Don't go, whatever you do. Sure to be dull. The mater's shows always are. What did you think of that girl the other night? Ha, ha! Told you so; I know all about women. What's this book you're reading? French, by Jove! Pretty stiff, isn't it? Oh, o' course you are French, aren't you? That makes a difference, I suppose. Well, then, you'll come with us. Thursday, first. I'll let you know the train.”
“May I bring my Halfred?” I inquired.
“Rather. Looks well to have a man with you. I'd bring mine, only he makes a fuss if he can't have a bedroom looking south, and one can't insist on people giving him that. Au revoir, mos-soo.”
This was on Monday, so I had but little time for preparation.
Halfred was at once taken into consultation.
“I am going to hunt,” I said; “also to a ball; and you are coming with me. Prepare me for the ballroom and the chase. What do I require beyond the things I already have?”
“A pink coat and a 'ard 'at, sir,” said he, with great confidence. “Likewise top-boots and white gloves for to dance in, not forgettin' a pair o' spurs and a whip.”
“I shall get the hat, the coat, and the boots. Gloves I have already. You will buy me the spurs and the whip. By-the-way, have you ever hunted, Halfred?”
“Not exactly 'unted myself, sir,” said he, “but I've seed the 'unt go by, and knowed a lot o' 'unting-men. Then, bein' connected with hosses so much myself I've naterally took a hinterest in the turf and the racin'-stable.”
0114m
“You are a judge of horses?” I asked.
“Well, sir, I am generally considered to know something about 'em. In fact, sir, Mr. Widdup—that's the gentleman what give me the testimonial—he's said to me more nor once, 'Halfred,' says he, 'what you don't know about these 'ere hanimals would go into a pill-box comfertable.'”
“Good,” I said. “Find me two hunters that I can hire for a week.”
The little man looked me up and down with a discriminating eye.
“Something that can carry a bit o' weight, sir, and stand a lot o' 'ard riding; that's what you need, sir.”
Now, I am not heavy, nor had circumstances hitherto given me the opportunity of riding excessively hard, but the notion that I was indeed a gigantic Nimrod tempted my fancy, and I am ashamed to confess that I fell.
0115m
“Yes,” I said, “that is exactly what I require.”
“Leave it to me, sir,” he assured me, with great confidence. “I'll make hall the arrangements.” My mind was now easy, and for the two following days I studied all the English novels treating of field sports, and the articles on hunting in the encyclopaedias and almanacs, so that when Thursday arrived and I met my friends at the station I felt myself qualified to take part with some assurance in their arguments on the chase. We are a receptive race, we French, and the few accomplishments we have not actually created we can at least quickly comprehend and master.
Next door to us, in a second-class compartment, Halfred was travelling, and attached to our train was the horse-box containing the two hunters he had engaged. I had had one look at these, and certainly there seemed to be no lack of bone and muscle.
“Mr. Widdup and me 'ired 'em, sir,” said Halfred, “from a particular friend o' ours what can be trusted. Jumps like fleas, they do, he says, and 'as been known to run for sixty-five miles without stoppin' more'n once or twice for a drink. 'Ard in the mouth and 'igh in the temper, says he, but the very thing for a gentleman in good 'ealth what doesn't 'unt regular and likes 'is money's worth when he does.”
“You have exactly described me,” I replied.
But if I had the advantage over my two friends in the suite I was taking with me, Teddy Lumme certainly led the way in conversation. He was vastly impressed with the importance of our party (a sentiment he succeeded in communicating to the guard and the other officials); also with the respectability of the function we were going to attend, and with the inferiority of other travellers on that railway. This air of triumphal progress or coronation procession was still further increased by the indefatigable attentions of Halfred, who at every station ran to our carriage door, touched his hat, and made inquiries concerning our comfort and safety; so that more than once a loyal cheer was raised as the train steamed out again, and Dick even declared that at an important junction he perceived the Lord Alayor's daughter approaching with a basket of flowers. Unfortunately, however, she did not reach our carriage in time.
0117m
The glories of this pageant he was partaking in filled Teddy's mind with reminiscences of other scenes where he had played an equally distinguished part.
“I remember one day with the Quorn last year,” he remarked. “Devil of a run we had; seventy-five minutes without a check. When we'd killed, I said to a man, 'Got anything to drink?' It was Pluckham. You know Lord Pluckham, Dick?”
“His bankruptcy case went through our chambers,” said Dick, dryly.
“Dashed hard lines that was,” said Teddy. “He's a good chap, is Pluckham; kept the best whiskey in England. By Jove! I never had a drink like that. A man needs one after riding with the Quorn.”
And Teddy puffed his cigar and chewed the cud of that proud moment.
“Where are our horses, Teddy?” asked Dick. “Coming down by a special train?”
“Oh, they are mounting me,” said Teddy. “Trevor-Hudson always keeps a couple of his best for me. What are you doing?”
“Following on a bicycle,” replied Dick. “My five grooms and six horses haven't turned up.”
“My dear Shafthead,” said I, “I shall lend you one of mine.”
“Many thanks,” he answered, with gratitude, no doubt, but with less enthusiasm than I should have expected. “Unfortunately I've seen 'em.”
“And do you not care to ride them?” I asked, with some disappointment, I confess.
“Not alone,” said Dick. “If you'll lend me Halfred to sit behind and keep the beast steady I don't mind trying.”
“Very well,” I said, with a shrug.
This strain of a brutality that is peculiarly British occasionally disfigures my dear Dick. Yet I continue to love him—judge, then, of his virtues.
“Are they good fencers?” asked Lumme.
“I have not yet seen them with the foils,” I replied, smiling politely at what seemed a foolish joke.
“I mean,” said he, “do they take their jumps well?”
“Pardon,” I laughed. “Yes, I am told they are excellent—if the wall is not too high. We shall not find them more than six feet?”
But I was assured that obstacles of more than this elevation would not be met frequently.
“Do they take water all right?” asked the inquisitive Teddy again.
“Both that and corn,” I replied. “But Halfred will attend to these matters.”
English humor is peculiar. I had not meant to make a jest, yet I was applauded for this simple answer.
“Tell me what to look for in my hosts,” I said to Dick, presently.
“Money and money's worth,” he replied.
“What we call the nouveau riche?” I asked.
“On the contrary, what is called a long pedigree, nowadays—two generations of squires, two of captains of industry (I think that is the proper term), and before that the imagination of the Herald's Office. There is also a pretty daughter—isn't there, Teddy?”
“Quite a nice little thing,” said Lumme, graciously.
“I thought you rather fancied her.”
“I'm off women at present,” the venerablerouédeclared.
Dick's grin at hearing this sentiment was more eloquent than any comment.
But now we had reached our destination. Halfred and a very stately footman, assisted by the station-master, the ticket-collector, and all the porters, transferred our luggage to a handsome private omnibus; then, Halfred having arranged that the horses should be taken to stables in the village (since my host's were full), we all bowled off between the hedge-rows.
It was a beautiful October evening, still clear overhead and red in the west; the plumage of the trees had just begun to turn a russet brown; the air was very fresh after the streets of London; our horses rattled at a most exhilarating pace.
“My faith,” I exclaimed, “this is next to heaven! I shall be buried in the country.”
“Those hunters of yours ought to manage it for you,” observed Dick.
Yet I forgave him again.
We turned through an imposing gateway, and now we were in a wide and charming English park. Undulating turf and stately trees spread all round us and ended only in the dusk of the evening; a herd of deer galloped from our path; rooks cawed in the branches overhead; a gorgeous pheasant ran for shelter towards a thicket. Then, on one side, came an ivy-covered wall over whose top high, dark evergreens stood up like Ethiopian giants. Evidently these were the gardens, and in a moment more we were before the house itself.
As I went from the carriage to the door I had just time and light to see that it was a very great mansion, not old, apparently, but tempered enough by time to inspire a kindly feeling of respect. A high tower rose over the door, and along the front, on either side, creepers climbed between the windows, and these gave an impression at once of stateliness and home.
By the aid of two servants, who were nearly as tall as the tower, we were led first through an ample vestibule adorned with a warlike array of spears. These, I was informed, belonged to the body-guard of my host when he was high sheriff of his county, and this explanation, though it took from them the romance of antiquity, gave me, nevertheless, a pleasanter sensation than if they had been brandished at Flodden. They were a relic not of a dead but a living feudalism, a symbol that a sovereign still ruled this land. And this reminded me of the reason I was here and the cause for which I still hoped to fight; and for a moment it saddened me.
But again I commit the crime of being serious; also the still less pardonable offence of leaving my two friends standing outside the doors of the hall.
Hastily I rejoin them; the doors open, a buzz of talk within suddenly subsides, and we march across the hall in single file to greet our host and hostess. What I see during this brief procession is a wide and high room, a gallery running round it, a great fireplace at the farther end, and a company of nearly twenty people sitting or standing near the fire and engaged in the consumption of tea and the English crumpet.
I am presented, received in a very off-hand fashion, told to help myself to tea and crumpet, and then left to my own devices. Lumme and Shafthead each find an acquaintance to speak to, my host and hostess turn to their other guests, and, with melted butter oozing from my crumpet into my tea, I do my best to appear oblivious of the glances which I feel are being directed at me. I look irresolutely towards my hostess. She is faded, affected, and talkative; but her talk is not for me, and, in fact, she has already turned her back. And my host? He is indeed looking at me fixedly out of a somewhat bloodshot eye, while he stuffs tea-cake into a capacious mouth; but when I meet his gaze, he averts his eyes. A cheerful couple; a kindly reception! “What does it mean?”
I ask myself. “Has Lumme exceeded his powers in bringing me here?” I remember that at his instigation Mrs. Trevor-Hudson sent me a brief note of invitation, but possibly she repented afterwards. Or is my appearance so unpleasant? In France, I tell myself, it was not generally considered repulsive. In fact, I can console myself with several instances to the contrary but possibly English standards of taste are different.
At last I venture to accost a gentleman who, at the moment, is also silent.
“Have you also come from London?” I ask.
“I? No. Live near here,” he says, and turns to resume his conversation with a lady.
I am seriously thinking of taking my departure before there is any active outbreak of hostilities, when I see a stout gentleman, with a very red face, approaching me from the farther side of the fireplace. I have noticed him staring at me with, it seemed, undisguised animosity, and I am preparing the retort with which I shall answer his request to immediately leave the house, when he remarks, in a bluff, cheerful voice, as he advances: “Bringin' your horses, I hear.”
“I am, sir,” I reply, in great surprise.
“Lumme was tellin' me,” he adds, genially. “Ever hunted this country before?”
And in a moment I find myself engaged in a friendly conversation, which is as suddenly interrupted by a very beautifully dressed apparition with a very long mustache, who calls my short friend “Sir Henry,” and consults him about an accident that has befallen his horse. But I began to see the theory of this reception. It is an Englishman's idea of making you—and himself—feel at home.
0124m
You eat as much cake as you please, talk to anybody you please, remain silent as long as you please, leave the company if you please and smoke a pipe, and you are not interfered with by any one while doing these things. To introduce you to somebody might bore you; you may not be a conversationalist, and may prefer to stand and stare like a surfeited ox. Well, if such are your tastes it would be interfering with the liberty of the subject to cross them. What was the use of King John signing the Magna Charta if an Englishman finds himself compelled to be agreeable?
This idea having dawned upon me and my courage returned, I cast my eyes round the company, and selecting the prettiest girl made straight at her. She received me with a smiling eye and the most delightful manner possible, and as she talked and I looked more closely at her, I saw that she was even fairer than I had thought.
Picture a slim figure, rather under middle height, a bright eye that sparkled as though there was dew upon it, piquant little features that all joined in a frequent and quite irresistible smile; and, finally, dress this dainty demoiselle in the most fascinating costume you can imagine. Need it be said that I was soon emboldened to talk quite frankly and presently to ask her who some of the company were? “Sir Henry” turned out to be Sir Henry Horley, a prosperous baronet, who scarcely ever left the saddle; the gentleman with the long mustache, to be Lord Thane, an elder son with political aspirations; while the man I had first accosted was no less a person than Mr. H. Y. Tonks, the celebrated cricketer.
“And now will you point out to me Miss Trevor-Hudson?” I asked. “I hear she is very beautiful.”
“Who told you that?” she inquired, with a more charming smile than ever.
“Her admirers,” I answered.
The girl raised her eyebrows, shot me the archest glance in the world, and pointing her finger to her own breast, said, simply:
“There she is.”
I said to myself that though my friend Teddy Lumme was “off women,” I, at any rate, was not.
8000
“Our language is needlessly complicated. Why, for instance, have two such words as 'woman' and 'discord,' when one would serve?”
—La Rabide.
9127
RESENTLY the men retired to smoke, and for an hour or two I had to tear myself from the smiles of Miss Trevor-Hudson.
The smoking-room opened into the billiard-room, and some played pool while the rest of us sat about the fire and discussed agriculture, the preservation of pheasants, and, principally, horses, hounds, and foxes. A short fragment will show you the standard of eloquence to which we attained. It is founded, I admit, more on imagination than memory, but is sufficiently accurate for the purpose of illustration. As to who the different speakers were you can please your fancy.
First Sportsman.“Are your turnips large?”
Second Sportsman. “Not so devilish bad. Did you go to the meet on Tuesday?”
First Sportsman. “Yes, and I noticed Charley Tootle there.”
Third Sportsman. “Ridin' his bay horse or his black?”
First Sportsman.“The bay.”
Fourth Sportsman. “Oats make better feeding.”
Second Sportsman. “My man prefers straw.”
First Sportsman. “Did you fish this summer?”
Third Sportsman.“No; I shot buffaloes instead.”
First Sportsman. “Where—Kamchatka or Japan?”
Third Sportsman. “Japan. Kamchatka's getting overshot.”
Fifth Sportsman.“Do you supply your pheasants with warm water?”
Second Sportsman.“I am having it laid on.”
Fifth Sportsman. “What system do you use?”
Second Sportsman. “Two-inch pipes attached by a rotatory tap to the conservatory cistern.”
Fifth Sportsman. “Sounds a devilish good notion.”
First Sportsman. “Now, let me tell you my experience of those self-lengthening stirrups.”
Fifth Sportsman.“Do you supply your pheasants with warm water?”
Second Sportsman.“I am having it laid on.”
Fifth Sportsman. “What system do you use?”
Second Sportsman. “Two-inch pipes attached by a rotatory tap to the conservatory cistern.”
Fifth Sportsman. “Sounds a devilish good notion.”
First Sportsman. “Now, let me tell you my experience of those self- lengthening stirrups.”
And so on till the booming of a gong summoned us to dress for dinner.
“Well,” said Dick, as we went to our rooms, “you looked as though your mind was being improved.”
“It is trying to become adjusted,” I replied.
On our way we passed along the gallery overlooking the hall, and suddenly I was struck by the contrast between this house and its inhabitants: on the one hand the splendid proportions and dignity of this great hall, dark under the oak beams of the roof, fire-light and lamp-light falling below upon polished floor and carpets of the East; the library lined with what was best in English literature, the walls with the worthiest in English art; on the other, my heavy-eyed host full of port and prejudices, and as meshed about by unimaginative limitations as any strawberry-bed. Possibly I am too foreign, and only see the surface, but then how is one to suspect a gold-mine beneath a vegetable garden?
At dinner I found myself seated between Lady Thane and Miss Rosalie Horley. Lady Thane, wife to the nobleman with the long mustache, had an attractive face, but took herself seriously. In man this is dangerous, in woman fatal. I turned to my other neighbor and partially obtained my consolation there. She was young, highly colored, hearty, and ingenuous, and proved so appreciative a listener as nearly to suffocate herself with an oyster-paté when I told her how I had burgled Fisher. The remainder of my consolation I obtained from the prospect, directly opposite, of Miss Trevor-Hudson. She was sitting next to Teddy Lumme, and if it had not been for his express declaration to the contrary I should have said he was far from insusceptible to her charms. Yet, since I knew his real sentiments, I did not hesitate to distract her glance when possible.
After dinner a great bustling among the ladies, a great putting on of overcoats and lighting of cigars among the men, and then we all embarked in an immense omnibus and clattered off to the ball. This dance was being held in the county town some miles away, so that for more than half an hour I sat between Dick and Teddy on a seat behind the driver's, my cigar between my teeth, a very excellent dinner beneath my overcoat, and my heart as light as a sparrow's. On either side the rays of our lamps danced like fire-flies along the woods and hedge-rows, but my fancy seemed to run still faster than these meteor companions, and already I pictured myself claiming six dances from Miss Trevor-Hudson.
But now other lights began to appear, twinkling through trees before us, and presently we were clattering up the high street of the market-town. Other carriages were already congregated about the assembly rooms at the Checkered Boar, a crowd of spectators had gathered before the door to stare at visions of lace and jewelry, the strains of the band came through an open window, and altogether there was an air of revelry that I suppose only visited the little borough once a year. Inside the doors, waiters with shining heads and ruddy faces waved us on up and down stairs and along passages, where, at intervals, we met other guests as resplendent as ourselves, till at last we reached the ballroom itself. This was a long, low room with a shining floor, an old-fashioned wall-paper decorated with a pattern of pink roses, and a great blaze of candles to light it up. It was evident that many generations of squires must have danced beneath those candles and between the rose-covered walls, and this suggestion of old-worldness had a singularly pleasant flavor.
In a recess about the middle of the room the orchestra were tuning up for another waltz; at one end the more important families were assembling; at the other, the lesser. Need I say that we joined the former group?
In English country dances it usually is the custom to have programmes on which you write the names of your partners for the evening. I now looked round to secure one particular partner, but she was not to be seen. The waltz had begun; I scanned the dancers. There was Shafthead tearing round with Miss Horley, his athletic figure moving well, his good features lit by a smile he could assume most agreeably when on his best behavior. There was the stout Sir Henry revolving with the more deliberate pomp of sixty summers. But where were the bright eyes? Suddenly I spied the skirt of a light-blue dress through the opening of a doorway. I rushed for it, and there, out in the passage, was the misogamist Lumme evidently entreating Miss Trevor-Hudson for more dances than she was willing to surrender. For her sake this must be stopped.
“I have come to make a modest request,” I said. “Will you give me a dance—or possibly two?”
With the sweetest air she took her programme from the disconcerted, and I do not think very amiable, Teddy, and handed it to me.
“I have taken three, seven, and fourteen,” I said, giving it back to her.
“Fourteen is mine,” cried Teddy.
“Not now, I said, smiling.
“I had booked it,” said he.
“Your name was not there,” I replied. “And now, Miss Hudson, if you are not dancing this dance will you finish it with me?”
She took my arm, and the baffled despiser of women was left in the passage.
This may sound hard treatment to be dealt out to a friend, and, indeed, I fear that though outwardly calm, and even polite to exaggeration, my indignation had somewhat run away with me. Had I any excuse? Yes; two eyes that, as I have said, were bright as the dew, and a smile not to be resisted.
She danced divinely, she let me clasp her hand tenderly yet firmly, and she smiled at me when she was dancing with others. I noticed once or twice when we danced together that Lumme also smiled at her, but I was convinced she did not reply to this. In fact, his whole conduct seemed to me merely presumptuous and impertinent. How mine seemed to him I cannot tell you.
0133m
He had secured the advantage of engaging several dances before I had time to interfere, and also possessed one other—a scarlet evening-coat, the uniform of the hunt. But I glanced in the mirror, and said to myself that I did not grudge him this adornment, while as for my fewer number of dances, I found my partner quite willing to allow me others to which I was not legally entitled. In this way I obtained number thirteen, to the detriment of Mr. Tonks, and was just prepared to embark upon number fourteen when Lumme approached us with an air I did not approve of.
“This is my dance,” he said, in a manner inexcusable in the presence of a lady.
“Pardon,” I replied. “It is mine.”
Miss Hudson looked from one to the other of us with a delightfully perplexed expression, but, I fear, with a little wickedness in her brown eye.
“What am I to do?” she said, with a shrug of her shoulders.
“It is my dance,” repeated Teddy, glaring fixedly at me.
I shrugged my shoulders, smiled, and offered her my arm to lead her away.
“I am sorry, Mr. Lumme,” said the cause of this strife, sweetly, “but I am afraid Mr. D'Haricot's name is on my programme.”
Teddy made a tragic bow that would have done credit to a dyspeptic frog, and I danced off with my prize. At the end of the waltz he came up to me with a carefully concocted sneer.
“You know how to sneak dances, moshyour,” he observed. “Do you do everything else as well?”
I kept my temper and replied, suavely, “Yes, I shoot tolerably with the pistol, and can use the foils.”
“Like your cab-horses?” sneered Teddy, taking no notice, however, of the implied invitation to console himself if aggrieved. “I'm keen to see how long you stick on top of those beasts.”
“Good, my friend,” I replied, “I take that as a challenge to ride a race. We shall see to-morrow who first catches the fox!”
8000
“With his horse and his hounds in the morning!”
—English Ballad.
9136
HEN I awoke next morning, my first thoughts were of a pair of brown eyes, dainty features that smiled up at me, and a voice that whispered as we danced for the last time together, “No, I shall not forget you when you are gone.”
Then, quickly, I remembered the sport before me, and the challenge to ride to the death with the rival who had crossed my path.
“Halfred,” I said.
The little man looked up from the pile of clothes he was folding in the early morning light, and stopped the gentle hissing that accompanied, and doubtless lightened, every task.
“Fasten my spurs on firmly,” I said. “I shall ride hard to-day.”
He cannot have noticed the grave note in my voice, for he replied, in his customary cheerful fashion, “If hevervthing sticks on as well as the spurs, sir, you won't 'ave nothin' to complain of.”
“I shall ride very hard, Halfred.”
“'Arder nor usual, sir?” he asked, with a look of greater interest.