A Civil Contract

“Foolish boy!” she said, rapidly mellowing. “I thought it right to make the effort, since you have invited these people particularly to meet me. I daresay, if you were to mention that I have a fatiguing journey before me tomorrow, they will not stay very late.”

This did not sound propitious, but it was misleading. From the moment that Rockhill, after holding her hand while he gazed admiringly at her countenance, carried it to his lips with old-fashioned courtesy, the Dowager’s enjoyment of the party was assured.

The arrival of the Oversleys coincided with that of Brough, and in the confusion of greeting no one noticed that Adam and Julia stood handlocked for longer than was customary, or heard Julia say: “This was not of my contrivance!”

“Nor of mine,” he returned, in a low voice. “You know that I cannot, must not say to you — ” He checked himself, and pressed her hand before releasing it “Only tell me that you are better! The anguish of that moment, at my aunt’s, will haunt me all my life? I think.”

“Oh, don’t let it do so! I shan’t mortify you again, I promise you! We shall grow accustomed, they tell me — forget that there was ever anything but friendship between us. I must wish you happy. Can you be?” A tiny headshake answered her. She smiled faintly. “No, your heart is not fickle.  I’ll wish you content only.”

She turned from him as she spoke to meet Lydia, who came up to her, saying: “I am so glad to see you, Julia! What an age it has been! The things I have to tell you!”

Adam moved away to mingle with his other guests, only a slight rigidity of countenance betraying that he was labouring under stress. Lydia, who had a schoolgirl’s admiration of Julia, was chattering away to her, and Julia seemed to be interested and amused. Adam heard her silvery laugh, and was thankful, for joined with the pain of being so close to her was the unacknowledged dread that she might allow her sensibility to overcome her upbringing, and precipitate them all into embarrassment. He wondered if Jenny, placidly talking to Lord Oversley, had any conception of the ordeal to which she had exposed both himself and Julia. She appeared unconscious, and when she chanced to meet his eyes there was no suspicion in hers, but only a little friendly smile. She seemed to be enjoying herself; and although this set her poles apart from him it relieved another of his anxieties: at his aunt’s assembly, and at Lady Bridgewater’s, her shyness had made her an awkward guest, but in her own house it was otherwise. There would be no need for him to keep a watchful eye on her, ready to help her over conversational hurdles, or to nudge her into a hostess’s duties: she was quiet, but she was quite assured, because she had been mistress of her father’s house for years, and was accustomed to entertaining his friends.

The dinner which was presently served was excellent, and since there were several topics of immediate public interest to be discussed conversation did not flag. Chief amongst these was the betrothal of the Princess Charlotte to the Prince of Orange, for so persistent were the rumours that the Princess had cried off that it was naturally a subject of paramount interest. Various reasons for the rupture were suggested, but Rockhill, who, being one of the Carlton House set, was probably better informed than anyone else present, said that he believed that the rift had arisen from the question of domicile: the Prince expected his bride to live in the Low Countries; the Princess, standing as she did in direct succession to the English throne, was determined to remain in her own country. This resolution, after some discussion, was approved, but it remained for Jenny to say that it seemed strange that the Regent should be willing to send his only child packing to foreign parts.

“Yes, indeed!” agreed Lady Oversley. “It really makes one wonder — But I believe she is excessively like him!” She then realized that her inconsequent tongue had betrayed her, and exclaimed, with even more inconsequence: “Which reminds me, Adam, that you must take your seat! Oversley was saying only the other day — weren’t you, my love? — that he must put you in mind of it.”

“Yes, I must, I suppose,” said Adam. “My uncle was speaking to me about it the other evening. He says he will go with me, and tell me what I must do when I get there — for I’m ashamed to say I don’t know!” He saw that Jenny was at a loss, and he smiled at her, saying: “In the House: I’ve a seat there, and must take an oath, or some such thing. I’m not obliged to make a speech, am I, sir?”

“Oh, no!” Oversley reassured him. “To be sure, Nassington is the man to sponsor you, except that — ”

“But he is not the man!” protested Brough. “Have my father, Lynton!”

The Dowager gave this her support. She distinctly recalled having heard the late Viscount deplore Lord Nassington’s Toryism, and was consequently sure that he would be much disturbed if he knew that his son was to take his seat under the aegis of a Government supporter. She then recounted a slightly muddled anecdote, told her by her father, about a party given by Mrs Crewe at the time of the great Westminster Election, at which the guests had worn blue and buff favours, which had something to do with General Washington. Or was it Mr Fox? Well, at all events, the toast had been True Blue.

“True Blue and Mrs Crewe, ma’am,” corrected Brough, well-versed in the annals of Whiggery. “Often heard m’father tell that tale. The Prince proposed it, and she whipped back with True Blue and all of you! Took very well.”

This naturally brought to mind the Prince’s sad change of front, now that he had become Regent, and the discussion became extremely animated. Adam took no part in it, but there was a decided twinkle in his eye, and when Brough said: “Go with m’father, and take care you sit down on the Opposition bench!” he replied in a soft, apologetic voice: “But I don’t think I wish to sit on the Opposition bench!”

Lord Rockhill laughed, but the other three gentlemen, momentarily stunned by this shocking announcement, recovered only to break into protest, even Mr Oversley being moved to say: “But you can’t! What I mean is, must be trying to hoax us!”

Adam shook his head, which made Brough demand to know why he was a member of Brooks’s. “Oh, that was my father’s doing, before I knew anything about politics!” he replied.

“You know precious little now!” said Oversley severely.

“Almost nothing,” Adam agreed. “Only that I’m not drawn to a set of fellows who have made it their business to snap and snarl round old Douro’s heels!”

“Oh, Wellington!” Oversley said, shrugging. “The belief that his victories have been exaggerated doesn’t comprise the whole of the party’s policy, my dear boy!”

The twinkle in Adam’s eye disappeared, and a rather dangerous sparkle took its place; but before he could speak Rockhill intervened, giving the conversation an adroit turn, guiding it by way of Brooks’s Club to White’s, and disclosing that a Grand Masquerade was to be given by the members of White’s, at Burlington House, in honour of the foreign visitors. The ladies found this a topic of far more interest than politics, and at once besieged Rockhill with questions. As might have been expected, he seemed to be very well-informed, and was able not only to tell them the names of the various princes and generals who were coming in the trains of the Tsar and the King of Prussia, but also to give them a forecast of what the celebrations would be. Besides the reviews, and the formal parties, there would be illuminations, fireworks, and lavish spectacles in the parks.

“That’s true,” corroborated Jenny. “At least, I know they mean to have illuminations at India House, and the Bank, and some other places as well, for my father was telling me about it only yesterday. And a civic banquet at the Guildhall, too, with all of them going to it in procession. He is going to hire a window for us — that is to say, he can very easily do so if we should wish it!” she added, with an involuntary look down the table at Adam.

“I should rather think you would!” exclaimed Lydia enviously.

“You would too, wouldn’t your” said Brough, who was seated beside her, “Can’t it be contrived? I shouldn’t go to Bath, if I were you: very dull sort of a place! Full of quizzes and cripples — balls end at eleven — nothing to do all day but drink the waters and parade about the Pump Room — not the style of thing you’ll enjoy!”

“I know I shan’t,” she sighed. “I have to go because of Mama. It is my Duty, so of course I don’t expect to enjoy it”

Jenny, who had quick hearing, had caught some part of this interchange. She said nothing then, but a little later, when the ladies had retired to the drawing-room and the Dowager was enjoying a comfortable gossip with Lady Oversley, she moved to where Lydia and Julia were seated side by side on a sofa, and said abruptly: “I’ve been thinking it over, and I believe I should ask Papa to procure a large window, or perhaps a room with several windows, so that we may invite our particular friends to share it with us. Would you care for it, Julia? And do you suppose that her ladyship might spare you for a visit to us, Lydia, so that you could see the procession, and all the other sights?”

“Oh, Jenny!” Lydia gasped. “If you truly mean it, and Mama won’t let me come, I’ll — I’ll jump on to the first stagecoach, and come without her leave!”