April Lady

his lordship cried off.”

“Well, there’s no need to make a mystery of it!” said Mr. Hethersett, irritated. “Where did he go?”

“That, sir, I cannot say, his lordship not having informed me. He had his whisky brought round, but he didn’t take his groom with him, nor yet his Tiger, and when I ventured to ask him if he would wish supper to be prepared for him he said that he didn’t know when he should be returning. His lordship appeared, sir, to be in quite a fret, if I may say so. Not at all like himself.”

The mystery was now plain to Mr. Hethersett. In his experience it was a foolish waste of time to attempt to hoodwink one’s servants. He had not for a moment imagined that the supposed secret of Letty’s flight was not known to every member of the household, so he had no hesitation in saying bluntly: “Set off after Lady Letitia, did he? Oh, well, if that’s so, no need for me to find him!”

“No, sir,” replied Farley. “His lordship was not aware that her ladyship had not returned to the house. I was not myself aware of it, until Miss Sutton—my lady’s dresser, sir—informed me that Lady Letitia was gone to spend the night with Mrs. Thorne. His lordship did not enquire for Lady Letitia. It was my Lady Cardross which his lordship was anxious to find.” He coughed delicately. “No doubt some urgent matter which he wished to discuss with her ladyship,” he said, gazing limpidly at Mr. Hethersett. “Being as they were disturbed by Sir John Somerby, and her ladyship, in consequence, leaving the book-room rather hastily, sir.”

“Oh!” said Mr. Hethersett, looking at him very hard.

“Yes, sir. So, as soon as he was rid—as soon, I should say, as Sir John left the house, his lordship went upstairs to find her ladyship, which, not being able to do, vexed him a trifle. Quite put out, he was, which was not to be wondered at, because it seems her ladyship forgot to inform him she was obliged to go out quite suddenly. And, of course, his lordship couldn’t help but be in a fidget when he found that my lady’s carriage had not been sent for. Very understandable, I am sure, sir, that his lordship should have felt anxious, for it was going on towards dinner- time, and naturally he wouldn’t like to think of my lady’s going out in such a way. Particularly,” he added, in a disinterested voice, “if she was going on a journey.”

“Is that what he thought she was meaning to do?” demanded Mr. Hethersett.

“Well, sir, that is not for me to say,” replied Farley carefully. “But when his lordship questioned George, it came out that her ladyship had sent down to have her dressing-case taken up to her room. Just after she had parted from his lordship, that would have been.” He looked Mr. Hethersett firmly in the eye, and said: “What I thought, sir, was that very likely her ladyship had had word brought her that my Lord Pevensey was lying on his deathbed, perhaps—which would account for her going off like she did. Being quite distracted, which no one could wonder at.”

“Yes, well, you can stop pitching your gammon!” said Mr. Hethersett indignantly. “Dashed well ought to know better! Must know I ain’t such an easy cove to swallow all that humdudgeon! I know what you thought, and it was a bag of moonshine!”

“Yes, sir,” said Farley, bowing. “I am very glad of it. I apprehend that her ladyship went in search of Lady Letitia, but on that subject I shall not presume to open my lips.”

“Well, see you don’t!” recommended Mr. Hethersett.

He then repaired to the library, where the Viscount, intent upon throwing a difficult chance, did not at first notice him. Nell, seated on the sofa at the end of the room, was a good deal dismayed to see him come walking in, for she had supposed him to have gone in search of Cardross. It was evident, since he had shed his cloak, that he had no immediate intention of leaving the house, and she could not help looking reproachfully at him, as he came towards her.

“No use,” he said, in an undervoice. “Floored at all points. Farley don’t know where Cardross is. Seems to me he’s making a dashed cake of himself. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s gone off to Devonshire.”

“Gone off to Devonshire?” she echoed, in amazement. “Nonsense, why should he do such a thing?”

“Chasing after you,” he said. “Shouldn’t think he’d be such a gudgeon as to set off in a whisky, but he may have hired a chaise. Left the whisky at the posting-house.”

Quite bewildered, she said: “But why should he think I had gone to Devonshire? Oh, Felix, are you foxed too?”

“No, of course I ain’t! Been talking to Farley. No wish to pry into what don’t concern me, but collect you had a turn-up with Cardross.” He added hastily, as the colour rushed into her cheeks: “Not my business! The thing is, Giles found you wasn’t in the house. Couldn’t discover where you was gone, and, by what I can make out, was thrown into a rare taking. Silly gape-seed of a porter told him some farradiddle about taking your dressing-case up to your room. Sounds to me as if he was pitching it pretty rum, but can’t be surprised it put Cardross in the devil of a pucker.”

“Oh, good God!” she exclaimed guiltily. “That was only to draw George out of the hall! How could he suppose—?” She stopped, and turned apprehensive eyes towards him. “Did—did the servants think I had run away?”

“Lord, yes! Bound to!” he replied. “However, it don’t signify. What I mean is, you hadn’t.”

“No, indeed! But to have caused such a commotion—set them all gossiping—Oh, do you think he will be very angry with me?”

“No, no! Might be in a miff, I daresay, but he’ll come about,” he said soothingly. “Must see you meant it for the best. Not your fault you made a mull of it.”

This well-meant consolation caused her to spring up, wringing her hands. “Letty!” she uttered. “Felix, it is my fault! Oh, if I had but told him! He will never forgive me!”

The Viscount, his attention jerked from the bones by her unguarded movement and raised voice, looked round. “What the deuce—Well, by God, if that fellow Hethersett hasn’t come sneaking back!”

“What, are you still castaway?” said Mr. Hethersett disgustedly. “I wish you’d take yourself off!”

“Oh, you do, do you?” countered his lordship. “Well, I’m not going to stir from this house while you’re in it, my buck, and that you may depend on!”

Mr. Fancot, with a hazy recollection of earlier events, looked puzzled, and said: “But you don’t like him, Dy! You said you was going to throw him out.”

“Felix!” said Nell, too lost in agitated reflection to heed this interchange. “There is nothing for it but for me to go after them! It may not be too late!”

“Good God, cousin, you can’t do that!” said Mr. Hethersett, shocked.

“If I went in our own chaise, and you were so very obliging as to go with me?” she urged. “It may be hours before Giles returns, and then—”

“Well, upon my soul!” ejaculated the Viscount, rising with such hasty violence as to overset his chair. “If that don’t beat all hollow!” He seized his sister by the shoulders, and shook her. “Have you taken leave of your senses?” he demanded. “Go off in a chaise with that fellow? Not while I’m here to stop you!” He rounded suddenly on Mr. Hethersett, an ugly look on his face. “What damned cajolery have you been playing off on her?” he said fiercely.

“For the lord’s sake, Dysart, go and dip your head in a bucket!” begged Mr. Hethersett.

“Oh, listen!” Nell said sharply, her face turned towards the door.

A quick stride was heard approaching; the door was flung open, and Cardross stood on the threshold. There was a hard, anxious look on his face, and he had not stayed to put off his long, many-caped driving coat. His eyes swept the room, and found his wife. He went quickly forward, totally ignoring the rest of the company, saying in a shaken voice which she hardly recognized: “Nell! Thank God! Oh, my darling, forgive me!”

“Giles! Oh, no! it was all my fault!” she cried, casting herself into his arms. “And it is much, much worse than you know! Letty has gone with Mr. Allandale!”

“Damn Letty!” he said, folding her close. “You have come back to me, and nothing else is of the smallest consequence!

Mr. Hethersett, averting his eyes with great delicacy from the passionate embrace being exchanged, began to polish his quizzing-glass; the Viscount stared in thunderstruck silence; and Mr. Fancot, after blinking at the extraordinary spectacle offered him, rose carefully to his feet, and twitched his friend’s sleeve. “Think we ought to be taking leave, Dy,” he said confidentially. “Not the sort of party I like, dear boy! Go for a toddle to the Mutton- walk!”