When the two duchesses and all the other ladies came out into the drawing-room, Arabella was found upon the sofa. Of course she became the centre of a little interest for a few minutes, and the more so, as her aunt went up to her and made some inquiries. Had she had any dinner? Was she less fatigued? The fact of the improper return home in the postchaise had become generally known, and there were some there who would have turned a very cold shoulder to Arabella had not her aunt noticed her. Perhaps there were some who had envied her Jack, and Lord Rufford’s admiration, and even the postchaise. But as long as her aunt countenanced her it was not likely that anyone at Mistletoe would be unkind to her. The Duchess of Omnium did indeed remark to Lady Chiltern that she remembered something of the same kind happening to the same girl soon after her own marriage. As the Duchess had now been married a great many years this was unkind;—but it was known that when the Duchess of Omnium did dislike anyone, she never scrupled to show it. “Lord Rufford is about the silliest man of his day,” she said afterwards to the same lady; “but there is one thing which I do not think even he is silly enough to do.”
It was nearly ten o’clock when the gentlemen came into the room and then it was that the Duchess—Arabella’s aunt—must find the opportunity of giving Lord Rufford the hint of which the Duke had spoken. He was to leave Mistletoe on the morrow and might not improbably do so early. Of all women she was the steadiest, the most tranquil, the least abrupt in her movements. She could not pounce upon a man, and nail him down, and say what she had to say, let him be as unwilling as he might to hear it. At last, however, seeing Lord Rufford standing alone—he had then just left the sofa on which Arabella was still lying—without any apparent effort she made her way up to his side. “You had rather a long day,” she said.
“Not particularly, Duchess.”
“You had to come home so far!”
“About the average distance. Did you think it a hard day, Maurice?” Then he called to his aid a certain Lord Maurice St. John, a hard-riding and hard-talking old friend of the Trefoil family who gave the Duchess a very clear account of all the performance, during which Lord Rufford fell into an interesting conversation with Mrs. Mulready, the wife of the neighbouring bishop.
After that the Duchess made another attempt. “Lord Rufford,” she said, “we should be so glad if you would come back to us the first week in February. The Prices will be here and the Mackenzies, and—.”
“I am pledged to stay with my sister till the fifth, and on the sixth Surbiton and all his lot come to me. Battersby, is it not the sixth that you and Surbiton come to Rufford?”
“I rather think it is,” said Battersby.
“I wish it were possible. I like Mistletoe so much. It’s so central.”
“Very well for hunting—is it not, Lord Rufford?” But that horrid Captain Battersby did not go out of the way.
“I wonder whether Lady Chiltern would do me a favour,” said Lord Rufford stepping across the room in search of that lady. He might be foolish, but when the Duchess of Omnium declared him to be the silliest man of the day I think she used a wrong epithet. The Duchess was very patient and intended to try again, but on that evening she got no opportunity.
Captain Battersby was Lord Rufford’s particular friend on this occasion and had come over with him from Mr. Surbiton’s house. “Bat,” he said as they were sitting close to each other in the smoking-room that night, “I mean to make an early start tomorrow.”
“What;—to get to Surbiton’s?”
“I’ve got something to do on the way. I want to look at a horse at Stamford.”
“I’ll be off with you.”
“No;—don’t do that. I’ll go in my own cart. I’ll make my man get hold of my groom and manage it somehow. I can leave my things and you can bring them. Only say tomorrow that I was obliged to go.”
“I understand.”
“Heard something, you know, and all that kind of thing. Make my apologies to the Duchess. In point of fact I must be in Stamford at ten.”
“I’ll manage it all,” said Captain Battersby, who made a very shrewd guess at the cause which drew his friend to such an uncomfortable proceeding. After that Lord Rufford went to his room and gave a good deal of trouble that night to some of the servants in reference to the steps which would be necessary to take him out of harm’s way before the Duchess would be up on the morrow.
Arabella when she heard of the man’s departure on the following morning, which she luckily did from her own maid, was for some time overwhelmed by it. Of course the man was running away from her. There could be no doubt of it. She had watched him narrowly on the previous evening, and had seen that her aunt had tried in vain to speak to him. But
