The wedding of the Earl of Rule to Miss Horatia Winwood passed off without any unseemly fracas, such as the arrest of the bride’s brother for debt or a scene created by the bridegroom’s mistress (an event not entirely unexpected by the hopeful), occurring to mar its propriety. The Earl arrived punctually, which surprised everyone, including his harassed secretary; and the bride seemed to be in excellent spirits. Indeed, there were those who considered her spirits too excellent for so solemn an occasion. She was not observed to shed a single tear. However, this lack of sensibility was more than made up for by the demeanour of Lady Winwood. Nothing could have been more proper than that lady’s whole bearing. She was supported by her brother, and wept silently throughout the ceremony. Miss Winwood and Miss Charlotte as bridesmaids looked beautiful and behaved becomingly; Mr Walpole’s sharp eyes took in everything; Lady Louisa Quain bore up very well, but had recourse to her handkerchief when my lord took Horatia’s hand in his; Mr Drelincourt wore a new wig, and a look of saintly resignation; and the Viscount performed his part with careless grace.
It was understood that after a few days spent in the country, the bride and groom were bound for Paris, the choice of destination having been left to the bride. Elizabeth thought it an odd place for a honeymoon, but “Pho!” said Horatia. “We are not like you and Edward, w-wanting to make love all d-day long! I want to see things, and go to V-Versailles, and b-buy smarter clothes than Theresa Maulfrey’s!”
This part at least of her programme was faithfully carried out. At the end of six weeks the noble pair returned to London, the bride’s luggage, so it was rumoured, occupying an entire coach.
The nuptials of her youngest-born had proved to be too much for Lady Winwood’s delicate constitution. The varied emotions she had sustained were productive of a fit of the vapours, and the intelligence that her son had signalized his sister’s wedding-day by betting fifty pounds on a race between two geese in Hyde Park set the seal to her collapse. She withdrew with her two remaining daughters (one, alas, so soon to be reft from her) to the fastness of Winwood, and there built up her shattered nervous system on a diet of eggs and cream and paregoric draughts, and the contemplation of the Marriage Settlements.
Charlotte, who had thus early in life perceived the Hollowness of Worldly Pleasures, professed herself very well pleased with the arrangement, but Elizabeth, though she would not have dreamed of urging Poor Dear Mama, would have preferred to be in London for Horry’s homecoming. And this in despite of the fact that Mr Heron found it easily compatible with his not very arduous duties to spend a considerable portion of his time at his home, not two miles distant from Winwood.
Of course Horry journeyed into Hampshire to visit them, but she came without the Earl, a circumstance that distressed Elizabeth. She arrived in her own chaise, a high-sprung affair with huge wheels and the most luxurious blue velvet upholstery,
Evidently the day of demure muslins and chip hats was done, for the vision in the chaise wore a gown of tobine stripes over a large hoop, and the hat perched on top of curls dressed
“Good gracious, it cannot be Horry!” gasped Charlotte, falling back a step.
But it was soon seen that the change in Horatia went no deeper than her clothes. She could hardly wait for the steps of the chaise to be let down before she sprang into Elizabeth’s arms, and she paid not the slightest heed to the crushing of her stiff silk gown or the tilting of that preposterous hat. From Elizabeth she flew to Charlotte, words bubbling off her tongue. Oh, yes, it was the same Horry: no doubt of that.
She stayed one night only at Winwood, which, said Charlotte, was just as well for her Mama, whose state of health was still too precarious to enable her to bear so much chatter and excitement.
Had she enjoyed her honeymoon? Oh, yes, she had had a famous time! Only fancy, she had been to Versailles and spoken with the Queen, and it was perfectly true, the Queen was the most ravishingly beautiful creature and so elegant that she set all the fashions. See, she herself was wearing shoes
It was not until they had retired to bed that Elizabeth had any opportunity for a
Elizabeth smiled. “I am sure you don’t care a rap for her disapproval, Horry.”
“Of c-course I don’t. I do so hope you will be m-married very soon, L-Lizzie. You have no n-notion how agreeable it is.”
“Quite soon now, we hope. But with Mama so poorly I don’t think of it. Are you—are you very happy, dearest?”
Horatia nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes! Only that I can’t help f-feeling sometimes that I stole M-Marcus from you, Lizzie. But you do still prefer Edward, don’t you?”
“Always,” Elizabeth answered, laughing. “Is it very bad taste in me?”
“Well, I m-must say I can’t understand it,” said Horatia candidly. “But perhaps it is b-because you aren’t horribly worldly, like m-me. L-Lizzie, even if it is odious of m-me, I must say it is delightful to have just what one wants, and to d-do as one pleases.”
“Yes,” agreed Miss Winwood rather doubtfully, “I suppose it is.” She stole a glance at Horatia’s profile. “Lord Rule—could not accompany you on this visit?”
“As a m-matter of fact,” admitted Horatia, “he would have come, only I w-wanted to have you all to m- myself, so he gave up the notion.”
“I see,” said Elizabeth. “Don’t you think, love, that you should have come together, perhaps?”
“Oh, no,” Horatia assured her. “He quite understood, you know. I find too that fashionable p-people hardly ever do things together.”
“Horry dear,” said Miss Winwood with difficulty, “I do not want to sound like Charlotte, but I have heard that when—when their wives are so very fashionable—gentlemen do sometimes look elsewhere for entertainment.”
“I know,” said Horatia sapiently. “But you see, I p-promised I wouldn’t interfere with Rule.”
It was all very disturbing, Elizabeth felt, but she said no more. Horatia returned to town next day, and the Winwoods heard of her thereafter through the medium of the post and the
Elizabeth heard more direct tidings of her from Mr Heron upon the occasion of his next visit into the country.
“Horry?” said Mr Heron. “Well, yes, I have seen her, but not quite lately, my love. She sent me a card for her drum Tuesday se’nnight. It was a very brilliant affair, but you know I am not in the way of going out a great deal. Still I did go there,” he added. “Horry was in spirits, I thought.”
“Happy?” Elizabeth said anxiously.
“Oh, certainly! My lord too was all amiability.”
“Did he seem—could you tell whether he seemed fond of her?” Elizabeth asked.
“Well,” said Mr Heron reasonably, “you would not expect him to display his affection in public, dearest. He was just as he always is. A little amused, I thought. You see, Horry seems to have become quite the rage.”
“Oh, dear!” said Miss Winwood, with deep foreboding. “If only she does not do anything shocking!” A glance at Mr Heron’s face made her cry out: “Edward, you have heard something! I beg you will tell me at once!”
Mr Heron made haste to reassure her. “No, no, nothing in the world, my love. Merely that Horry seems to have inherited the Fatal Tendency to gamble. But nearly everyone plays nowadays, you know,” he added soothingly.
Miss Winwood was not soothed, nor did an unexpected visit a week later from Mrs Maulfrey do anything to alleviate her alarms.
Mrs Maulfrey was staying at Basingstoke with her Mama-in-law, and drove over to Winwood to pay a morning call on her cousins. She was far more explicit than had been Mr Heron. She sat in a
It was quite obvious that Mrs Maulfrey had not come on any charitable errand. Charlotte, always just, said:
