“It is not only that.” Roderick stared moodily across the room. “How I wish that he had never met Roxhythe!”
“No. Roxhythe has matured him.”
“Matured him wrongly. He has given him the courtier’s manner, the intriguer’s speech, the cynic’s heart.”
“Fiddle!” said Lady Frances emphatically. “Fiddle!”
Sir Jasper came towards them.
“I am very churlish,” he smiled. “But I must go. These are busy times, Mr. Dart. Fanny, will you excuse me?”
“How tiresome of you!” sighed my lady. “I suppose I must.” She watched him leave the room. “He is very hard-worked,” she said.
Private conversation with Roderick was at an end, so Lady Frances induced him to recount some of his life abroad.
Christopher found that his brother could be quite interesting when drawn out of his shell. In the middle of the recital the door was flung open.
“The Most Noble the Marquis of Roxhythe!” announced the footman portentously.
Roderick broke off. Lady Frances cast an agitated glance around.
“I do not receive,” she said.
The footman became flustered. It was evident that Roxhythe was close.
Christopher had risen. He was rather white, but quite composed. A small pulse was throbbing in his throat.
A leisurely footfall sounded. My lord had followed the lackey. He came into the room, typically languid.
The footman cast his mistress an apologetic glance, and vanished.
My lord bent over his cousin’s hand.
“My fair Frances, I felicitate you.”
“Why?” she asked, a trifle peevishly.
Roxhythe waved his hand to the blue hangings of the room.
“The admirable setting,” he answered. He bowed to Roderick. “Well met, Mr. Dart.” Then he looked at Christopher, and smiled, holding out his hand. “My dear Chris!”
Christopher went to him quickly. He carried my lord’s hand to his lips and held it there for a moment.
“What a charming reunion!” remarked Roxhythe blandly. “I am come at a lucky moment.”
Lady Frances fanned herself slowly.
“Pray sit down, David! You are so large.”
Roxhythe chose a high-backed chair with arms. He turned to Christopher.
“Tell me, Chris, how is your Worth?”
Christopher smiled. His heart was leaping within him, but an apathetic calm seemed to have settled above it.
“He is a sore trial, sir. He asks me the same question three times within the hour, and he is most unrestful.”
My lord was pained.
“Are you gibing at me, Chris?”
“I wonder!” said Christopher, and laughed.
Roxhythe turned to Roderick.
“Christopher long since discovered that it was my foible that I could not have an unrestful companion. He has never ceased to poke fun at me on that score.”
Roderick answered perfunctorily.
Lady Frances stopped fanning herself and entered into the conversation.
Presently Roderick looked across at his brother. He stood up.
“Oh—already?” asked her ladyship.
“We have trespassed too long,” said Christopher. “Why, we have been here an hour!”
“You were not wont to be so polite,” pouted Fanny. “But I’ll not press you to stay. Mr. Dart, I hope you will visit me again. You may bring Chris!”
“You are very kind,” bowed Roderick. “I shall avail myself of that permission.”
As Christopher bent over her hand Frances whispered hurriedly.
“I am sorry, Chris! Indeed, I had no idea—”
“Why it’s nothing,” he answered. “Sooner or later it had to be.” He kissed her fingers again. Then he went to Roxhythe, who was talking inanely to Roderick. “My lord—”
Roxhythe turned.
“Are you going, Chris? When do you intend to honour me?” The brown eyes were almost pleading.
“Some day,” said Christopher. “Not—quite—yet.”
My lord’s fingers held his firmly.
“Don’t let it be too long, child. I miss you.”
The young mouth set tightly. Christopher did not look at him.
When they were gone, her ladyship looked straight into Roxhythe’s eyes.
“Are you a devil?” she asked, deadly quiet.
“I had not thought so, but what an amusing notion! Perhaps I am.”
“You knew that Chris was to be here today!”
“Did I?”
“I’ll vow you did! Or you found out of my footman. Why did you come?”
“I wanted to see him.”
“Why? To keep the wound open?”
“Perhaps.”
“I suppose you wish now that you had not destroyed his faith in you. You want him back. I can tell you that he will never return to you.”
“Can you? We shall see.”
“I shall try to induce him to go away!”
“Certainly. I shall not worry myself unduly. I only wanted to see him.”
“Then it was hateful of you! You might have known that it would be worse for him after seeing you! You are vile!”
“No. Only human.”
“Inhuman!”
Roxhythe laughed.
Lady Frances sank back against the cushions. She gave a tiny sigh.
“No. I suppose you are just Roxhythe.”
“A new species, my dear.”
“Sometimes so dear; mostly so cruel.”
“Fanny, you are morbid! Confess, you have a great kindness for me?”
“Alas, yes.”
“This is most harrowing,” said my lord. “Why alas? We have always been very good friends.”
“I know. I have nothing personal against you. But, oh, David! leave Christopher in peace! You have broken him; don’t try to make it worse.”
“It was not my intention.”
“It is what you are doing. You are trying to get him beneath your sway again! You will not do it, but it is cruel!”
“Then if I shall not do it, why worry?” said my lord.
V
Discord
When William of Orange was wedded to the Lady Mary, in November, England rejoiced. On the eve of the wedding-day the streets of London were packed with jubilant citizens who made bonfires, and cheered lustily the King, the Lady Mary, and the Prince of Orange. They even cheered, though faintly, the Duke of York, who having at last consented to the marriage, was now putting a good face upon it. Enthusiasm, therefore, waxed great. Protestant successors were ensured to the throne, and the alliance undoubtedly pointed to a lasting split between Charles and the hated Louis.
Amid the festivities there was one who rejoiced not at all. This one was the French Ambassador, M. Barillon, who had received disquieting tidings from his royal master concerning the marriage, and knew that he was like to receive more. Nor was he mistaken in his conviction, for when my Lord Danby set before Louis tentative proposals for peace with the
