The Unknown Ajax

dreamed would come to pass!”

“No,” said the Major again, sympathetically. “It’s been a facer to the both of us.”

Lord Darracott stared at him. “A facer for me, but a honey-fall for you, young man!”

The Major preserved a stolid silence.

“And don’t tell me you’d as lief not step into your uncle’s shoes!” said Lord Darracott. “You’ll find me a hard man to bridge, so cut no wheedles for my edification!” He paused, but the Major still had nothing to say. His lordship gave a short laugh. “If you thought you’d turn me up sweet by writing that flim-flam to Lissett you mistook your man! I detest maw-worms, and that’s what you sounded like to me! I do you the justice to say you haven’t the look of a maw-worm, so maybe it was your notion of civility. Let me have no more of it!” He waited again for any answer the Major might like to make, but, getting none, snapped: “Well, have you a tongue in your head?”

“I have,” responded Hugo, “but I was never one to give my head for washing.”

“You’re not such a fool as you look,” commented his lordship. “Whether you’ve enough sense to learn what every other Darracott has known from the cradle we shall see. That’s why I sent for you.”

“It’s why I came, think on,” said Hugo reflectively. “My father being killed almost before I was out of long coats, there was no one to tell me anything about my family, and barring I’d a lord for grandfather I didn’t know anything.”

“You’re blaming me, are you? Very well! If I had known that there would ever have been the smallest need for you to know anything about me, or mine, I should have sent for you when your father died, and had you reared under my eye.”

“Happen my mother would have had something to say to that,” remarked Hugo.

“There’s nothing to be gained by discussing the matter now. When your father married against my wish he cut himself off from his family. I don’t scruple to tell you, for you must be well aware of it, that in marrying a weaver’s daughter—however virtuous she may have been!—he did what he knew must ruin him with me!”

“Ay, they were pluck to the backbone, the pair of ’em,” nodded Hugo. “What with you on the one hand, and Granddad on t’other, they must have had good bottom, seemingly.” He smiled affably upon his lordship. “I never heard that they regretted it, though Granddad always held to it that no good would come of the match. Like to like and Nan to Nicholas was his motto.”

“Are you telling me, sir, that the fellow objected to his daughter’s marrying my son?” demanded Lord Darracott.

“Oh! he wasn’t at all suited with it!” replied Hugo. “Let alone my father was Quality-make, he was too much of a care-for-nobody for Granddad: caper-witted, he called him. Shutful with his brass, too, which used to put Granddad, by what I’m told, into a rare passion. But Granddad’s bark was worse than his bite, and he came round to the marriage in the end. It’s a pity you never met him: you’d have agreed together better nor you think.”

Lord Darracott, almost stunned, sought in vain for words with which to dispel this illusion. Before he could find them, Hugo had added thoughtfully: “You put me in mind of him now-and-now, particularly when you start ringing a peal over someone. However, you didn’t send for me to talk about Granddad, so likely I’m wasting your time, sir.”

“I wish to hear nothing about your granddad, as you call him, or your mother, or the life you led when you were a boy!” declared his lordship, his face still alarmingly suffused with colour. “Understand me, that period is never to be mentioned! I recommend you to put it out of your mind! It shouldn’t be difficult; you’ve been a serving officer for the past ten years, and must have other things to talk of. I collect that there are no longer any ties binding you to Yorkshire, and that circumstance I cannot but regard as fortunate. I’ll be plain with you: since I can’t keep you from succeeding me I mean to see you licked into shape before I stick my spoon in the wall.”

“Nay, we can’t tell but what I’ll break my neck over a rasper, or go off in the smallpox,” interposed Hugo, in a heartening tone.

“Where the devil did you learn to hunt?” exclaimed his lordship.

“In Portugal.”

“Oh!” His lordship sat for a minute or two digesting this. “Well, that’s more than I hoped for!” he said presently. “You’ll be able to hunt from here: it’s humbug country, but you’ll see plenty of sport. I used to hunt in the shires, but I’m getting too old for it now. Sold my lodge in Leicestershire some years ago. Just as well I did! I should have had that nick-or-nothing boy of mine coming to grief over those fences, sure as a gun!”

“I’ve a fancy to hunt in the shires myself,” confessed Hugo. “In fact—”

“Oh, you have, have you? Then you’d best rid yourself of it!” interrupted his lordship sardonically. “Behave yourself, and I’ll make you a respectable allowance, but it won’t run to the Quorn or the Pytchley, so don’t think it!”

“Nay, I wasn’t thinking it!” replied Hugo, looking a little startled. “Nor of your making me an allowance neither, sir. I’m much obliged to you, but I don’t want that: I’ve plenty of brass.”

Lord Darracott was amused. “Ay, your pockets are well-lined because you’ve just had the prize-money for the Peninsula and Waterloo paid to you. I know all about that, and no doubt it seems a fortune to you. You’ll change your ideas a little when you’ve learnt the ways of my world.”

“My grandfather left me some brass too,” said Hugo diffidently.

“What you choose to do with your grandfather’s savings is no concern of mine: spend them as you wish! For your support, you’ll look to me—and you’ll be glad enough to do so before you’re much older! You are going to live in a different style to any you’ve been accustomed to, and you wouldn’t find yourself able to strike a balance on a weaver’s savings, however thrifty he may have been. Let me hear no more on that subject!”

“No,” said Hugo meekly.

“Well, that brings me to what I have to say to you,” said his lordship. “You’re my heir, and you’ve all to learn, and I choose that you shall learn it under my roof. For the present you’ll remain here—at all events until you’ve lost that damned north-country accent! Later I’ll let your uncle introduce you into Society, but the time for that’s not yet. This is your home, and here you’ll stay. Which reminds me that you must sell out, if you haven’t already done so.”

“I have,” said Hugo.

The craggy brows drew together. “Taking a lot for granted, weren’t you?”

“Well,” Hugo drawled, “there was a lot I could take for granted, sir.”

“What if I hadn’t chosen to acknowledge you?”

“Nay, I hadn’t thought of that,” confessed Hugo.

“Don’t be too pot-sure!” said his lordship, by no means pleased. “I could still send you packing! And make no mistake about it: if I find you intolerable I’ll do it!”

A flicker of relief shone for an instant in the Major’s eyes, but he said nothing.

“However, you’re better than I expected,” said his lordship, mollified by this docility. “I daresay something can be made of you. Watch your cousins, and take your tone from them! I don’t mean Claud—though no one would ever mistake him for other than a gentleman, mooncalf though he is!—but the other three. Vincent’s an idle, extravagant dog, but his ton is excellent—what they call nowadays top-of-the-trees! You may take him for your model—and I’ll see to it you don’t copy his extravagance! No use looking to him to set you right when you make mistakes, however: he won’t do it, because he’s as sulky as a bear over the whole business. I could force him to take you in hand, but I shan’t. I don’t want the pair of you coming to cuffs. That’s why I’ve told Claud to give you a new touch. Between ’em, he and Anthea can teach you pretty well all you need to know. She was born and bred here, knows all the ways of the place, all our history, every inch of my land! Not married, are you?”

“Married!” ejaculated Hugo, taken-aback. “Lord, no, sir!”

“No, I didn’t think you could be,” said his lordship. “I recommend you get on terms with your cousin Anthea. She doesn’t want for sense, and she’s a spirited, lively girl, and would make you an excellent wife, if she took a fancy to you. I shall say no more on that head at present, however. Time enough to be looking to the future when you’re better acquainted. What you can do at the moment is to go over the house with her: get her to tell you about the family! Ring the bell!”

The Major rose, and obeyed this peremptory behest. He also mopped his brow.

“I’m going to send for her,” said his lordship. “She can take you up to the picture-gallery for a start.”

The Major, showing alarm for the first time, tried to protest, but was cut short. “Ay, I know that throws you