False Colours

“You didn’t see him! I hoped that that business at least had been settled.”

“I couldn’t. I found he was visiting the Regent. That was a facer to start with! I’ve never exchanged more than half-a-dozen words with the Regent inmy life, and that was at the levée my father dragged us both to at our come-out! Well, is it likely I should be acquainted with him? He’s old enough to be my father, and Papa never was one of his set. I hadn’t thought it would be difficult to get my name sent in to Silverdale, but it was dashed difficult—particularly when I took out my card-case, and found it empty! I shouldn’t wonder at it if they thought I was an impostor, at the door! In any event, they said that his lordship had gone into the country that day. I don’t know if it was true, or not, but there was no arguing the point, so I desired them, with haughty composure (though not by half as haughty as theirs!), to inform his lordship that I was sorry to have found him absent, but should hope to have the good fortune to see him when I returned to Brighton, within a sennight or so. I couldn’t remain in Brighton, you see, because I wanted to visit Clara before returning to London, and I was a trifle pressed for time. Which reminds me, Kester! Send Fimber down to me tomorrow, will you? I want some clothes to wear, my snuff, and some visiting-cards! He can help me to dress, too.”

“I’ll do that, but you won’t need your cards, and you won’t need Challow. You’re not going to Brighton, so don’t think it! For one thing, we can’t have two Denvilles at large—and one of them with his arm in a sling! For another, you’re in no case to be jauntering about. I’ll go, if you’ll tell me exactly what you want me to say to Silver-dale, and how I’m to redeem the brooch. If it’s by a draft on the Bank, can you write it?”

“I should think I might be able to, but it isn’t. By rag-money, because I am acting on Mama’s behalf, and it is she who is to redeem the brooch. I’ve got a roll of soft in my nightbag, and Fimber can bring it to you tomorrow. Kester, will you do it for me? I ought not to permit you to, but by now Brighton is probably as full as it can hold of people who know us, and I do see that it won’t do for me to be in two places at once—and in one of them with a broken shoulder! That’s the sort of thing that always gets to be known! And I dare say,” he added, in a thoughtful tone, “that you know much better than I do how to force your way into royal residences!”

“One of my chief duties!” agreed Kit. “Sit down again while I put on some clothes, and I’ll go with you to Pinny’s cottage, and put you to bed. You can give me your roll of soft, too.”

“You’d much better go to bed yourself,” said Evelyn, sitting down on the arm of the chair. “I can manage very well, you know. But I’d liefer be undressed by you than Pinny—and we’ve the devil of a lot to discuss still!”

“We aren’t going to discuss anything tonight,” said Kit, tossing his dressing-gown on to the bed. “Too late— and you’re worn to a bone, Eve!”

“Oh, no! Just a trifle out of curl still, that’s all! Shall I go and wake Mama up?”

“No, don’t! You’d stay talking to her till daylight. I’ll tell her first thing, and I should think she’ll be at Pinny’s a good hour before breakfast!”

“No, no Kester! Mama don’t leave her room until an hour after breakfast!”

“She does when we have our Aunt Emma staying with us!” replied Kit, grinning, as he stepped into a pair of breeches. “My aunt is an early riser! Did Pinny tell you that we are enjoying the rare felicity of entertaining her, and my uncle, and our beloved cousin?”

“She did! Also that Ripple is one of the party! What the devil do you mean by inviting that bag-pudding to Ravenhurst?” demanded Evelyn.

“I didn’t: it was Mama’s doing—but I’ve no objection. He’s not such a bag-pudding as we were used to think, you know. He and Cressy are the only ones—other than Fimber and Challow, of course—who have yet found me out! You must teach me your way of opening a snuff-box, Eve! I made a mull of that—and the snuff in it was dry!”

“Oh, shame!” Evelyn exclaimed. He produced his snuffbox from his pocket, and flicked it open. “Thus!”

“Oh, very deedy!” said Kit approvingly. “Lefthanded, too!”

“Good God, twin, I never use my right hand!” Evelyn said, shocked.

Kit chuckled, but said, as he knotted a handkerchief round his neck: “Why do you hold the old fellow in such dislike? I know we were used to think him a bobbing-block, but there’s no harm in him that I can discover; and you must own that he’s good-natured!”

“He makes Mama ridiculous!” Evelyn said resentfully.

“Oh, I don’t know that! He may be barrel-bellied, but he’s a tremendous swell! When you think of the position he’s held ever since I can remember, and his wealth, which I understand to be staggering, it’s more of a triumph for Mama, to have kept him tied to her apron-strings all these years!” said Kit cheerfully. “I’ll tell you this, Eve! I’d liefer by far have him dangling after her than one or two of the other insinuating court cards I saw in Mount Street! That fellow, Louth, for one! If ever I saw a loose-screw—! I’d have given something to have tipped him a settler!”

Evelyn said quickly: “Yes, so would I, but there’s nothing in it, Kester! There has never been anything since we were children, when she was so lonely, and unhappy—she told me herself, begging me not to judge her harshly! I judge her harshly—!”

Kit looked across at him, a question in his eyes. “Matlock?”

“Yes. Didn’t you know?”

Kit shook his head. “No. That is, I’ve sometimes wondered, looking back, and remembering things that happened then. Poor little Mama! How should either of us judge her, who have had all her love? Did my uncle know?”

“Can you doubt it?” said Evelyn savagely.

“I suppose not. Well, that settles it! Whatever else we may do to bring her about, we will not approach him in the matter!”

“I should rather think not! But, Kester—” He broke off, looking at Kit with a remorseful gleam in his eyes. “I wish I hadn’t told you that! I can’t think how I came to do so, except that I didn’t recollect that you’ve been away since we came down from Oxford. It doesn’t seem like that, does it? I wish you will forget I told you: you may, you know!” The remorse faded, his irrepressible smile leaping into his eyes. “She has done so! Of course, if anything were to happen to recall it to her mind, she would remember, but not otherwise! For, after all, dearest,” he continued, in exact and loving imitation of his wayward parent, “it happened a very long time ago, and crying over spilt milk is such a melancholy thing to do!”

16

Lady Denville did not, after all, visit her prodigal son before breakfast, being strongly urged by Kit not to do so, on the grounds that she would in all probability wake him from a deep sleep, induced partly by exhaustion, and partly by a posset brewed by Nurse Pinner from some recipe known only to herself.

Kit had visited his mama while she was still attired in her filmy dressing-gown. The stately Miss Rimpton was deftly arranging her burnished locks a la Tite, and although she might be said, by the slight curtsy she dropped him, to have acknowledged the right of my lady’s son to intrude upon his mama’s toilet, her face remained set in lines of austere disapproval. Lady Denville might welcome his supposed lordship with cordiality, but in Miss Rimpton’s opinion no gentleman, however nearly related, should be permitted to set eyes on her until she had passed out of her dresser’s expert hands. She said repressively: “One moment, my lady, if you please!” and went on pinning up her mistress’s hair in an unhurried way which was designed to put Kit in his place. It succeeded very well, since when she presently withdrew, having desired her ladyship to ring the bell when she should be ready to receive her further services, he exclaimed: “You know, that woman frightens me to death, Mama!”

“Yes, isn’t she odious?” agreed Lady Denville. “But a positive genius! What is it you want, dearest? Don’t tell me something dreadful has happened!”

“Not a bit of it!” he replied, quizzing her. “Can’t you guess?”

“No, wicked one! How should I—Kit! You don’t mean—Oh, is it Evelyn?” She flew