His secretary was also present, apparently attempting to cope with a number of invitations for his lordship, for as Mr Drelincourt strutted in he said despairingly: “But, sir, you must surely remember that you are promised to her Grace of Bedford tonight!”
“I wish,” said Rule plaintively, “that you would rid yourself of that notion, my dear Arnold. I cannot imagine where you had it. I never remember anything disagreeable. Good-morning, Crosby.” He put up his glass the better to observe the letters in Mr Gisborne’s hand. “The one on the pink paper, Arnold. I have a great predilection for the one writ on pink paper. What is it?”
“A card-party at Mrs Wallchester’s, sir,” said Mr Gisborne in a voice of disapproval.
“My instinct is never at fault,” said his lordship. “The pink one it shall be. Crosby, really there is no need for you to stand. Have you come to breakfast? Oh, don’t go, Arnold, don’t go.”
“If you please, Rule, I wish to be private with you,” said Mr Drelincourt, who had favoured the secretary with the smallest of bows.
“Don’t be shy, Crosby,” said his lordship kindly. “If it’s money Arnold is bound to know all about it.”
“It is not,” said Mr Drelincourt, much annoyed.
“Permit me, sir,” said Mr Gisborne, moving to the door.
Mr Drelincourt put down his hat and his cane, and drew out a chair from the table. “Not breakfast, no!” he said a little peevishly.
The Earl surveyed him patiently. “Well, what is it now, Crosby?” he inquired.
“I came to,” said Mr Drelincourt, “I came to speak to you about this—this betrothal.”
“There’s nothing private about that,” observed Rule, addressing himself to the cold roast beef.
“No, indeed!” said Crosby, with a hint of indignation in his voice. “I suppose it is true?”
“Oh, quite true,” said his lordship. “You may safely felicitate me, my dear Crosby.”
“As to that—why, certainly! Certainly, I wish you very happy,” said Crosby, put out. “But you never spoke a word of it to me. It takes me quite by surprise. I must think it extremely odd, cousin, considering the singular nature of our relationship.”
“The—?” My lord seemed puzzled.
“Come, Rule, come! As your heir I might be supposed to have some claim to be apprised of your intentions.”
“Accept my apologies,” said his lordship. “Are you sure you won’t have some breakfast, Crosby? You do not look at all the thing, my dear fellow. In fact, I should almost feel inclined to recommend another hair powder than this blue you affect. A charming tint, Crosby: you must not think I don’t admire it, but its reflected pallor upon your countenance—”
“If I seem pale, cousin, you should rather blame the extraordinary announcement in today’s
“But, Crosby,” said his lordship plaintively, “were you really sure that you would outlive me?”
“In the course of nature I might expect to,” replied Mr Drelincourt, too much absorbed in his disappointment to consider his words. “I can give you ten years, you must remember.”
Rule shook his head. “I don’t think you should build on it,” he said. “I come of distressingly healthy stock, you know.”
“Very true,” agreed Mr Drelincourt. “It is a happiness to all your relatives.”
“I see it is,” said his lordship gravely.
“Pray don’t mistake me, Marcus!” besought his cousin. “You must not suppose that your demise could occasion in me anything but a sense of the deepest bereavement, but you’ll allow a man must look to the future.”
“Such a remote future!” said his lordship. “It makes me feel positively melancholy, my dear Crosby.”
“We must all hope it may be remote,” said Crosby, “but you cannot fail to have observed how uncertain is human life. Only to think of young Frittenham, cut off in the very flower of his youth by the overturning of his curricle! Broke his neck, you know, and all for a wager.”
The Earl laid down his knife and fork, and regarded his relative with some amusement. “Only to think of it!” he repeated. “I confess, Crosby, what you say will add—er—piquancy to my next race. I begin to see that your succession to my shoes—by the way, cousin, you are such a judge of these matters, do, I beg of you, tell me how you like them?” He stretched one leg for Mr Drelincourt to look at.
Mr Drelincourt said unerringly: “
“It’s a pity you don’t,” said his lordship, “for I perceive that you may be called upon to step into them at any time.”
“Oh, hardly that, Rule! Hardly that!” protested Mr Drelincourt handsomely.
“But consider how uncertain is human life, Crosby! You yourself said it a moment back. I might at any moment be thrown from a curricle.”
“I am sure I did not in the least mean—”
“Or,” continued Rule pensively, “fall a victim to one of the cut-throat thieves with which I am told the town abounds.”
“Certainly,” said Mr Drelincourt a little stiffly. “But I don’t anticipate—”
“Highwaymen too,” mused his lordship. “Think of poor Layton, with a bullet in his shoulder on Hounslow Heath not a month ago. It might have been me, Crosby. It may still be me.”
Mr Drelincourt rose in a huff. “I see you are determined to make a jest of it. Good God, I don’t desire your death! I should be excessively sorry to hear of it. But this sudden resolve to marry when everyone had quite given up all idea of it, takes me aback, upon my soul it does! And quite a young lady, I apprehend.”
“My dear Crosby, why not say a very young lady? I feel sure you know her age.”
Mr Drelincourt sniffed. “I scarcely credited it, cousin, I confess. A schoolroom miss, and you well above thirty! I wish you may not live to regret it.”
“Are you sure,” said his lordship, “that you won’t have some of this excellent beef?”
An artistic shudder ran through his cousin. “I never—positively never—eat flesh at this hour of the morning!” said Mr Drelincourt emphatically. “It is of all things the most repugnant to me. Of course you must know how people will laugh at this odd marriage. Seventeen and thirty-five! Upon my honour, I should not care to appear so ridiculous!” He gave an angry titter, and added venomously: “To be sure, no one need wonder at the young lady’s part in it! We all know how it is with the Winwoods. She does very well for herself, very well indeed!”
The Earl leaned back in his chair, one hand in his breeches pocket, the other quite idly playing with his quizzing-glass. “Crosby,” he said gently, “if ever you repeat that remark I am afraid—I am very much afraid—that you will quite certainly predecease me.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Mr Drelincourt looked down at his cousin and saw that under the heavy lids those bored eyes had entirely lost their smile. They held a very unpleasant glint. Mr Drelincourt cleared his throat, and said, his voice jumping a little: “My dear Marcus—! I assure you I meant nothing in the world! How you do take one up!”
“You must forgive me,” said his lordship, still with that alarming grimness about his mouth.
“Oh, certainly! I don’t give it a thought,” said Mr Drelincourt. “Consider it forgotten, cousin, and as for the cause, you have me wrong, quite wrong, you know.”
The Earl continued to regard him for a moment; then the grimness left his face, and he suddenly laughed.
Mr Drelincourt picked up his hat and cane, and was about to take his leave when the door opened briskly, and a lady came in. She was of middle height, dressed in a gown of apple-green cambric with white stripes, in the style known as
She was an extremely handsome woman, with most speaking eyes, at once needle-sharp, and warmly smiling, and she bore a striking resemblance to the Earl.
On the threshold she checked, her quick gaze taking in Mr Drelincourt. “Oh—Crosby!” she said, with unveiled dissatisfaction.
Rule got up, and took her hand. “My dear Louisa, have you also come to breakfast?” he inquired.
