“Very good indeed, my Lord Duke; very good indeed! Ha, ha, ha!—all horses have heads, and all have tails! Heads and tails. Upon my word that is the best thing I have heard for a long time. I will do myself the honour of wishing your Grace good night. By-bye, Silverbridge.” Then he left the room, having been made supremely happy by what he considered to have been the Duke’s joke. Nevertheless he would remember the snubbing and would be even with Silverbridge some day. Did Lord Silverbridge think that he was going to look after his Lordship’s ’orses, and do this always on the square, and then be snubbed for doing it!
“I am very sorry that he should have come in to trouble you,” said the son.
“He has not troubled me much. I do not know whether he has troubled you. If you are coming down to the House again I will walk with you.” Silverbridge of course had to go down to the House again, and they started together. “That man did not trouble me, Silverbridge; but the question is whether such an acquaintance must not be troublesome to you.”
“I’m not very proud of him, sir.”
“But I think one ought to be proud of one’s friends.”
“He isn’t my friend in that way at all.”
“In what way then?”
“He understands racing.”
“He is the partner of your pleasure then;—the man in whose society you love to enjoy the recreation of the racecourse.”
“It is, sir, because he understands it.”
“I thought that a gentleman on the turf would have a trainer for that purpose;—not a companion. You mean to imply that you can save money by leaguing yourself with Major Tifto?”
“No, sir—indeed.”
“If you associate with him, not for pleasure, then it surely must be for profit. That you should do the former would be to me so surprising that I must regard it as impossible. That you should do the latter—is, I think, a reproach.” This he said with no tone of anger in his voice—so gently that Silverbridge at first hardly understood it. But gradually all that was meant came in upon him, and he felt himself to be ashamed of himself.
“He is bad,” he said at last.
“Whether he be bad I will not say; but I am sure that you can gain nothing by his companionship.”
“I will get rid of him,” said Silverbridge, after a considerable pause. “I cannot do so at once, but I will do it.”
“It will be better, I think.”
“Tregear has been telling me the same thing.”
“Is he objectionable to Mr. Tregear?” asked the Duke.
“Oh yes. Tregear cannot bear him. You treated him a great deal better than Tregear ever does.”
“I do not deny that he is entitled to be treated well;—but so also is your groom. Let us say no more about him. And so it is to be Mabel Grex?”
“I did not say so, sir. How can I answer for her? Only it was so pleasant for me to know that you would approve if it should come off.”
“Yes;—I will approve. When she has accepted you—”
“But I don’t think she will.”
“If she should, tell her that I will go to her at once. It will be much to have a new daughter;—very much that you should have a wife. Where would she like to live?”
“Oh, sir, we haven’t got as far as that yet.”
“I dare say not; I dare say not,” said the Duke. “Gatherum is always thought to be dull.”
“She wouldn’t like Gatherum, I’m sure.”
“Have you asked her?”
“No, sir. But nobody ever did like Gatherum.”
“I suppose not. And yet, Silverbridge, what a sum of money it cost!”
“I believe it did.”
“All vanity; and vexation of spirit!”
The Duke no doubt was thinking of certain scenes passed at the great house in question, which scenes had not been delightful to him. “No, I don’t suppose she would wish to live at Gatherum. The Horns was given expressly by my uncle to your dear mother, and I should like Mary to have the place.”
“Certainly.”
“You should live among your tenantry. I don’t care so very much for Matching.”
“It is the one place you do like, sir.”
“However, we can manage all that. Carlton Terrace I do not particularly like; but it is a good house, and there you should hang up your hat when in London. When it is settled, let me know at once.”
“But if it should never be settled?”
“I will ask no questions; but if it be settled, tell me.” Then in Palace Yard he was turning to go, but before he did so, he said another word leaning on his son’s shoulder. “I do not think that Mabel Grex and Major Tifto would do well together at all.”
“There shall be an end to that, sir.”
“God bless you, my boy!” said the Duke.
Lord Silverbridge sat in the House—or, to speak more accurately, in the smoking-room of the House—for about an hour thinking over all that had passed between himself and his father. He certainly had not intended to say anything about Lady Mab, but on the spur of the moment it had all come out. Now at any rate it was decided for him that he must, in set terms, ask her to be his wife. The scene which had just occurred had made him thoroughly sick of Major Tifto. He must get rid of the Major, and there could be no way of doing this at once so easy and so little open to observation as marriage. If he were but once engaged to Mabel Grex the dismissal of Tifto would be quite a matter of course. He would see Lady Mabel again on the morrow and ask her in direct language to be his wife.
XXVIII
Mrs. Montacute Jones’s Garden-Party
It was known to all the world that Mrs. Montacute Jones’s first great garden-party was to come off on Wednesday, 16th June, at Roehampton. Mrs. Montacute Jones, who lived in Grosvenor Place
