In a very few moments, Mr. Westruther, admitted to the house by Mrs. Armathwaite, strode into the Rector’s parlour, and stood for a minute on the threshold while his keen, yet oddly lazy eyes took in the assembled company. They encountered first Miss Charing, who had started forward into the middle of the room. An eyebrow went up. They swept past the Rector, and alighted on Miss Plymstock. Both eyebrows went up. Lastly, they discovered Lord Dolphinton, emerging from the cupboard. “Oh, my God!” said Mr. Westruther, shutting the door with a careless, backward thrust of one hand.
The Rector’s parlour was of comfortable but not handsome proportions, and with the entrance of Mr. Westruther it seemed to shrink. The Rector was himself a large man, but he neither caused his room to dwindle in size, nor seemed out of place in it. But he did not wear a driving coat with sixteen capes, which preposterous garment added considerably to Mr. Westruther’s overpowering presence; he did not flaunt a spotted Belcher neckcloth, or a striped waistcoat; and if the fancy took him to wear a buttonhole, this took the form of a single flower, and not a nosegay large enough for a lady to have carried to a ball. He had a shapely leg, and took care to sheathe it, when he rode to hounds, in a well-fitting boot; but he despised the white tops of fashion, and his servant was not required to polish the leather until he could see his own reflection in it.
Mr. Westruther moved forward, the big mother-of-pearl buttons on his driving-coat winking in the lamplight. He put out his hand, and with one long finger tilted Kitty’s chin up. “What a charming gown, my dear!” he remarked. “You should always wear pink: did the estimable Freddy tell you so? He has his uses! May I kiss you?”
“No, you may not!” said Kittv, pushing his hand away.
He laughed. “Ah, just so! Far too many persons present, are there not? Am I correct in supposing that you are here on precisely my own errand? Did you bring Dolphinton? A mistake, I feel—but I cannot believe that he had the wit to come of his own volition.”
He spoke lightly, but she had the impression that under his air of mockery he was angry. This puzzled her, and had the effect of diverting her own annoyance. She said slowly: “No, I am not here on any errand of yours, Jack. To be sure, I have no notion of what your errand may be!”
“Have you not? Then I will tell you, my love!” He rounded suddenly upon the Rector. “I am so happy to have found you at home, coz! Do, pray, inform me!—Are you aware of what has been going on under your saintly nose, at Arnside, or has it escaped your notice?”
The Rector’s eyes flashed. “I will rather inform you, Jack, that I find your manners offensive!”
“Do you? I am glad to hear it—quite enchanted, in fact! You become almost human. In general, you know, I find you as dead a bore as any waxwork.”
The Rector’s hands clenched involuntarily, and his austere mouth tightened. Mr. Westruther, observing these unclerical signs of wrath, laughed. “Do you mean to have a turn-up with me? I should not advise it. You were a first-rate boxer once, but you have let yourself get sadly out of condition, I fancy.”
“Don’t try my patience too far!” said the Rector, his breathing a little quickened.
“Oh, to the devil with you!” Mr. Westruther said impatiently. “Give me a plain answer! Do you know what has been going forward at Arnside, or are you sand-blind?”
Lord Dolphinton, whose eyes had been going from one to the other of his cousins, now saw fit to explain the situation, in so far as he was able, to his betrothed. “That’s my cousin Jack,” he informed her. “Told you about him. He’s vexed with Hugh. Hugh’s vexed with him. I don’t know why, but I wish he hadn’t come. I don’t like him. Never did.”
“Let it console you, sapskull, to know that your sentiments are reciprocated to the full!” said Mr. Westruther, with a snap.
“I’ll thank you, sir, to keep a civil tongue in your head!” said Miss Plymstock, entering the lists in steely-eyed defence of his lordship. “If there’s anything you are wishful to say in Foster’s disparagement, say it to me—if you dare! I’ve heard a deal about you, and not a word that wasn’t true, by what I can see!”
This unexpected attack successfully arrested Mr. Westruther’s attention. Up flew his mobile brows; genuine amusement set his eyes laughing again; he lifted his quizzing-glass, and through it inspected Miss Plymstock from head to foot. “A formidable opponent!” he remarked. “Diminutive, but pluck to the backbone! May I have the honour of knowing who you are?”
“Oh, Jack, pray will you stop behaving in this odious way?” begged Kitty. “It is Miss Plymstock, who is going to marry Dolph, and we are in such a dreadful fix! Only I do think that perhaps you could help us out of it!”
“I feel sure you are mistaken.”
“No, no, I know you could do it, if you would! What in the world has made you so cross? What is it that has been happening at Arnside?”
“So you don’t know! Then let me inform you, my love, that while you have been cutting capers in town, your dear Fish has entrapped my great-uncle into offering to bestow upon her his hand, and his not inconsiderable fortune!”
“What?” almost shrieked Kitty. “Uncle Matthew marry Fish? You must be mad!”
“Whoever else is mad, it is certainly not I!” he replied. He looked at the Rector with narrowing eyes. “I observe, coz, that these tidings do not come as a surprise to you!”
“No. They do not,” said the Rector coldly. “I have been aware for some weeks of my uncle’s intentions. I may add that I have also been admitted into Miss Fishguard’s confidence.”
“Have you indeed? It did not occur to you, I must assume, to warn either Kitty or me of what was looming before us?”
A slight, contemptuous smile curled the Rector’s lips. “You are correct in your assumption,” he said. “It does not appear to me that my uncle’s schemes are any concern of yours, my dear cousin!”
“But, good God, how has this come about?” cried Kitty. “Uncle Matthew and my poor Fish! Why, she goes in terror of him, while as for him, whenever his gout troubles him it is fatal for her to enter his room! Surely you are mistaken!”
“Oh, no, I am not mistaken!” he replied grimly. “My uncle did me the honour to write to me, informing me of his purpose. I am but just come from Arnside. My only mistake has been in thinking that my saintly cousin might, for once in his life, allow his common-sense a little rein!”
His cousin was goaded into making a very unsaintly retort. “Not quite your only mistake, I fancy!”
For an instant Mr. Westruther looked quite murderous; then he uttered a short laugh, and said: “As you say!”
Kitty, who had been staring at him in blank astonishment, suddenly exclaimed: “Can that have been why Fish begged me to return? And yet—Jack, how is this possible!”
“You, my dear Kitty, made it possible when you so unwisely left Arnside. So far as I am privileged to understand the matter, the Fish has been busy! She has learnt to play chess so that he may beat her every night; she has prevailed upon him to believe that the pangs of his gout have been alleviated by some antiquated remedy of her finding rather than by the clemency of the weather; and finally she has instilled into his mind the famous notion that since it will not suit his comfort to dispense with her services it will cost him less to marry her than to continue to pay her a wage!”
Kitty turned her eyes towards Hugh, in a mute question. He said gravely: “I cannot deny that I believe my uncle to be influenced by motives of economy.”
“But Fish—! Can it be that she will consent? When I recall her dismay, upon learning that I was going on a visit to London, I cannot believe it!”
“Very true, but you must recollect, my dear Kitty, that Miss Fishguard’s future, were she to leave Arnside, cannot be other than precarious. Moreover, since you went away, and she has been obliged to fill your place in the household, she has discovered, in some measure, how to make herself agreeable to him. Indeed, I have seldom known him to be in more amiable spirits!”
“Very adroitly has she discovered how to make herself agreeable!” struck in Mr. Westruther. “We have underrated her, my dear Hugh—let us own as much! Has she bamboozled you with her tears, and her vapours, and her protestations? What a
“Then that must have been what she meant by treachery!” exclaimed Kitty, unheeding. “How foolish of her! As though I could think such a thing of her! If she does indeed wish to marry Uncle Matthew, it is an excellent scheme!”
“I hope you may think as much when you find yourself cut out of my uncle’s Will by a brat in her image!” said Mr. Westruther viciously.
