The Quiet Gentleman

well-opened eyes, and would willingly have sacrificed the natural curl in her brown hair for tresses of gold, or even of raven-black. As for her figure, though some men might admire plump women, she could not bring herself to suppose that St. Erth, himself so slim and graceful, could think her anything but a poor little dab of a girl.

'It is a great piece of folly to suppose that because his manners are so very engaging he regards you with anything but tolerance!' she told her image. She then blew her nose, sniffed, and added, with a glance of contempt at her rather flushed countenance: 'Depend upon it, you are just the sort of girl a man would be glad to have for his sister! You don't even know how to swoon, and I daresay if you tried you would make wretched work of it, for all you have is common-sense, and of what use is that, pray?'

This embittered thought brought to her mind the several occasions upon which she might, had she been the kind of female his lordship no doubt admired, had kindled his ardour by a display of sensibility, or even of heroism. This excursion into romance was not entirely successful, for while she did her best to conjure up an agreeable vision of a heroic Miss Morville, the Miss Morville who was the possessor not only of a practical mind but also of two out- spoken brothers could not but interpose objections to the heroine's actions. To have thrown herself between the foils, when she had surprised the Earl fencing with Martin, would certainly have been spectacular, but that it would have evoked anything but exasperation in the male breast she was quite unable to believe. She thought she need not blame herself for having refrained upon this occasion; but when she recalled her behaviour in the avenue, when the Earl had been thrown from his horse, she knew that nothing could excuse her. Here had been an opportunity for spasms, swoonings, and a display of sensibility, utterly neglected! How could his lordship have been expected to guess that her heart had been beating so hard and so fast that she had felt quite sick, when all she had done was to talk to him in a voice drained of all expression? Not even when his lifeless body had been carried into the Castle had she conducted herself like a heroine of romance! Had she fainted at the sight of his blood-soaked raiment? Had she screamed? No! All she had done had been to direct Ulverston to do one thing, Turvey another, Chard to ride for the doctor, while she herself had done what lay within her power to staunch the bleeding.

At this point, the prosaic Miss Morville intervened. 'Just as well!' she said.

'He would have liked me better had I fallen into a swoon!' argued Drusilla.

'Nonsense! He would have been dead, far well you know that no one else had the least notion what to do!' said Miss Morville.

'At least I might have screamed when Martin came through the panel!'

'He was very much obliged to you for not screaming. He said you were a remarkable woman,' Miss Morville reminded her.

'I heard him say the same of his Aunt Cinderford!' said Drusilla, refusing to be comforted.

Miss Morville could think of no reply to this, but issued instead depressing counsel. 'You would do better to put him out of your mind, and return to your parents,' she said. 'No doubt he will presently become betrothed to a tall and beautiful woman, and forget your very existence. However, a useful life lies before you, for your brothers will certainly marry, and although you yourself will remain single, you will be an excellent aunt to all your nephews and nieces.'

It was perhaps not surprising that it was Miss Morville rather than Drusilla, who presently carried his medicine to the Earl.

He had promoted himself that day to a chair beside the fire, and was seated in it, clad in the brocade dressing-gown which had excited his cousin's mockery, and leaning his head back against the cushions to look up at Lord Ulverston, who stood warming his coat-tails in front of the hearth. He was certainly pale, and Miss Morville thought that he looked tired, but he greeted her with a warm smile, and spoke with a gaiety at variance with his rather careworn appearance. 'I wish you will tell me why it is, Miss Morville, that you never visit me unless you wish to force an evil draught down my unwilling throat!' he said. 'And this afternoon you did not even visit me for that purpose, but left Turvey to be your deputy! I promise you, I think myself very hardly used!'

'What an exacting fellow you are!' exclaimed the Viscount, in a rallying tone. 'Miss Morville went to meet her parents, and you may think yourself lucky she has returned to you at all!'

'Ah, yes, I had forgotten!' Gervase said, taking the glass, and draining it. He gave it back to Miss Morville, saying: 'Does this mean that we must lose you, ma'am?'

'Not immediately. I have promised Lady St. Erth that I will remain with her another week,' she replied.

'You are very good,' he said, smiling at her. 'I wish her ladyship and I may not, between us, have given your parents a great dislike of us!' He added, as she laughed, and moved towards the door: 'Oh, no, don't run away so soon! How can you neglect me so? Tell me about Martin's new man!'

She was surprised, and repeated: 'Martin's new man?'

'Miss Morville, have you not seen him?' demanded the Viscount. 'I've been telling Ger it's a trifle too smoky for my taste! Never saw such a fellow in my life!'

'I didn't know that he had engaged a new man,' she said. 'Has he turned off Studley, then?'

'That's what I'd like to know. All I can tell you is that my fellow says Studley went off with some tale of being obliged to visit his old father, and this new man walked in. Told me he was a valet, but what I thought was that he must have broken out of Newgate! What's more, I caught him hobnobbing with that groom of Martin's this afternoon, and if you can tell me, Ger, what Martin's valet was doing in the stables I'll thank you!'

'Most mysterious,' agreed Gervase, rather amused.

'Ay, you may laugh!' the Viscount said. 'You haven't seen the fellow! Valet! Good God, one would as lief employ a coal-heaver! No, really, Ger! Give you my word!'

'Martin does not care very much for his appearance,' Miss Morville ventured to suggest.

Gervase cast her a mischievous look, murmuring demurely: 'Not one of these dandified jackanapes! Very true, Miss Morville!'

'I am sure,' she retorted, with spirit, 'he would never be so foolish as to demand to be shaved when he should rather have been measured for a cerecloth!'

The Viscount would have none of this trifling. He said: 'A man don't need to be a dandy to hire a respectable valet! Point is, either he don't hire one at all, or he hires one who knows his work! What I want to know is, why was this Newgate fellow brought in?'

'My dear Lucy, my very dear Lucy!' said Gervase, at his most dulcet. 'What dreadful apprehensions are you trying to instil into my head? Miss Morville, my pulse is tumultuous! I think you should feel it!'

She was, however, intently regarding the Viscount. 'What is it that you fear, my lord?'

'I don't say I fear anything,' replied the Viscount unconvincingly. 'All I say is that there's something devilish queer afoot! First we have Martin coming back to Stanyon with just the sort of bamming story I warned you he would tell! Now, didn't I, Ger? You can't deny it, and you need not try to fob me off with your story about a man in homespuns! Lord, what a hum! I don't say I blame you: no one wants a scandal in his family! but don't try to bamboozle me, dear old boy! Then you don't die after all, and the next thing we know is that there's a villainous- looking fellow prowling about your damned draughty ancestral halls, saying he's your brother's new valet! I tell you to your face, Ger, it won't fudge!'

'But surely Martin would not—' began Miss Morville, and broke off short, looking from Ulverston to St. Erth, in mute question.

'No telling what a young fool like Martin would do!' said the Viscount. 'Might not have thought anything of it, if I hadn't seen this Leek earwigging that groom today! As it is—did see it! Made me think, Ger! Made me add two and two together!'

'But, Lucy, you know you cannot add two and two together!' expostulated Gervase. 'Whenever you have computed your debts, you have always reached a false total! Why don't you ask Martin why he has taken this strange individual into his service?'

'Martin and I don't exchange any more words than we need!' replied the Viscount grimly. 'Daresay he knows what I think! Don't mind if he does!'

'What a happy party must assemble for dinner each evening!' remarked Gervase, watching the play of the candlelight on his emerald signet-ring.

'You may well say so! And when your cousin has left us, we shall have no one but that prosy parson to keep our conversation alive!' said the Viscount.