Chapter IX: Book THE FIFTH: Lady Thicknesse (2)

By this time, Mildred's resentment had, in some degree, abated, though she still treated him with coldness. But the captain looked so unhappy, that her heart was touched with compassion, and she soon showed a disposition to relent.

One morning on coming down to breakfast, he found her and Emmeline in the dining-room, and the latter perceiving she was rather in the way good-naturedly left them together.

The captain immediately took advantage of the opportunity.

“Mildred,” he said, in his softest tone, “will you allow me to offer an explanation?”

“I do not want any explanation, Captain Danvers,” she replied. “I have ceased to take any interest in you.”

“I hope not,” he replied; “I trust I may be able to exculpate myself!”

“You will find that rather difficult!” she said.

“Yet hear me, I implore you!” he entreated in such moving accents, that she could not refuse.

“First, let me inquire whether Mrs Calverley has sent you any special information?” he said.

“I have not heard from her for nearly a week,” she replied. “Indeed, I have not written to her.”

“Then you are not aware that all is at an end between us?”

“Your brother, Scrope, told me that the engagement was broken off.”

“Did he tell you it was broken off by me?”

“He did,” she replied, colouring slightly.

“Mildred, I could not have married her. For a short space she seemed to cast a spell over me; but I soon recovered from it, and found that you alone are mistress of my heart, and that I could not live without you. But I had lost you--I had forfeited your regard, and could never hope to regain it.”

“You judged correctly,” said Mildred. But her looks rather belied her words.

“Though justly punished, I was resolved not to unite myself to a woman I cannot love, and who, I believe, is equally indifferent to me. A pretext for breaking off the engagement was easily found--nay, presented itself. Certain she would refuse, I required a handsome settlement to be made upon me. Her answer, as I anticipated, set me free; and now, dearest Mildred,” he added, venturing to take her hand which she did not withdraw, “you have heard my explanation, can you forgive me?”

“You do not deserve forgiveness!” she replied in a voice that showed she relented.

“I know it,” he said, raising her hand to his lips. “But I feel that I am forgiven.”

Further discourse was interrupted by the entrance of Lady Thicknesse and Emmeline, both of whom had witnessed the tender incident just described, and understood that a reconciliation had taken place, but neither made a remark.

“I've an agreeable surprise for you,” said Lady Thicknesse. “Who do you think is coming to me tomorrow? You'll never guess; so I may as well tell you--Mrs. Calverley.”

Exclamations of surprise rose from all; but no one seemed particularly pleased.

“I was not aware you knew her, aunt,” remarked Captain Danvers, who did not care to conceal his vexation.

“I have never seen her,” replied Lady Thicknesse. “But I wrote to say I should be delighted to make her acquaintance, and hoped she might be induced to spend a week with me while Mildred and Emmeline are in town. She has just answered that she accepts my invitation with the greatest pleasure, and I may expect her to-morrow. She will make a delightful addition to our little party.”

“I am not so sure of that,” muttered Captain Danvers.

“What put it into your head to ask her, dear aunt?” said Emmeline.

“A conversation I had with Scrope. He extolled her so much, that I longed to see her.”

“I wish he had held his tongue,” mentally ejaculated the captain.

Just then Higgins and a footman brought in breakfast, and an end was put to the conversation.

Later on, when she had an opportunity of saying a word to Lady Thicknesse privately, Emmeline observed:

“I think, aunt, you'll regret asking Mrs. Calverley. Though very handsome, very clever, and very agreeable, she's extremely mischievous. Everybody has been trying to get out of her way, and now we shall have her in our midst again. I shall be very much surprised if she doesn't cause some unpleasantness.”

“Don't be afraid of that, my dear,” said Lady Thicknesse, laughing. “I expect she'll be very useful.”

“Useful in what way, aunt?”

“I can't explain, but such is my opinion.”

“I advise you to take care of her, aunt. Depend upon it, she's a very designing woman.”

X. MRS. CALVERLEY MAKES AN IMPORTANT CONQUEST.

|Next day, Mrs. Calverley arrived in plenty of time for dinner.

She looked extremely well, and produced a most favourable impression upon Lady Thicknesse, who thought her one of the handsomest and best bred woman she had ever seen, and would not believe a word that had been said against her.

The meeting with Mildred was not very cordial; but Mrs. Calverley, who was a most accomplished actress, contrived to make it appear that there was no want of affection on her part, and completely imposed upon Lady Thicknesse.

With Emmeline it was the same thing. Whatever feelings she secretly entertained for that young lady, she professed the greatest regard for her.

Nor did she exhibit any coldness or resentment towards Captain Danvers, of whose conduct she had just reason to complain. No one could have guessed that they had recently quarrelled.

In short, Lady Thicknesse could see nothing in her but what was charming, and congratulated herself upon having invited her.

A splendid chamber was assigned her, with an adjoining room for her lady's-maid, Laura.

As usual, there was a small dinner-party on that day, consisting of Lord Courland, Sir Bridgnorth Charlton, Scrope, Captain Danvers, and Chetwynd.

Mrs. Calverley had a little talk with Chetwynd in the drawing-room, and they appeared on the most friendly terms; but their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Lord Courland, who was presented to the beautiful widow, and claimed her attention.

Evidently the young lord was very much struck with her, and, seeing the effect she had produced, she exerted herself to the utmost, and before the end of the evening had completely enthralled her new admirer.

To Scrope, who knew his friend well, it seemed almost certain Mrs. Calverley would eclipse Emmeline. Hitherto, as we have shown, Lord Courland had divided his attentions between the two girls; but on this occasion he was engrossed by the fascinating widow, and had eyes for no one else.

Sir Bridgnorth came to the same conclusion as Scrope; and as he had taken Mrs. Calverley down to dinner, and found himself rather _de trop_, he was able to judge.

Even Lady Thicknesse began to see the error she had committed in introducing so dangerous a rival. Mrs. Calverley was far more to be feared than Mildred, and might carry off the prize.

However, the beautiful widow acted with great discretion. Apparently, she attached no importance to the conquest she had made. When rallied on the subject next morning by Lady Thicknesse, she owned that she had flirted a little with Lord Courland, but had not for a moment regarded his attentions seriously.

“I am glad to hear you say so,” replied her ladyship. “Had it been otherwise, you would have run counter to a plan of mine. To tell you the truth, I rather wish to bring about a match between his lordship and Emmeline.”

“Nothing could be better!” said Mrs. Calverley. “I wouldn't interfere with it for the world. But I fear there is a little difficulty that you may not be aware of. I suspect Emmeline has an attachment.”

“The same notion has occurred to me; but I have never questioned her, and she has said nothing to me. To whom do you suppose she is attached?--to Chetwynd?”

“No; it is only surmise on my part. But still I think I am right.”

“If she won't accept Lord Courland, it will be monstrously provoking after all my trouble. He has met her every day for nearly a fortnight, and the affair has not advanced a single step. She seems to like his society, but nothing more, and he appears just as much pleased with Mildred as he is with her.”

“Have you tried to bring him to the point? Have you spoken to him?”

“No; my nephew, Scrope Danvers, is strangely averse to such a course.”

“He is wrong. Pardon me if I say you ought to come to an immediate understanding.”

“But Scrope advises me to proceed very cautiously.”

“There may be excess of caution as well as too little. Something must be done. I will speak to his lordship if you like.”

“I shall feel immensely obliged if you will. I should like to place the affair in your hands. I am confident you will manage it better than I can.”

“I shall be able to put questions to him that your ladyship could not. Is he coming here to-day, may I ask?”

“I am not quite sure. But he will dine here tomorrow.”

XI. LADY THICKNESSE CONSULTS SIR BRIDGNORTH.

|Lord Courland did not call on that morning; but Scrope did, and had a private conference with Lady Thicknesse in her boudoir.

He looked very grave as he addressed her.

“Your matrimonial scheme is at an end, my dear aunt,” he said. “Courland has fallen desperately in love with Mrs. Calverley.”

Her ladyship uttered a cry of astonishment.

“He declares she is the most charming woman he ever met. I feel certain he will propose to her. Now what is to be done?”

“It seems embarrassing, certainly. But you need have no uneasiness. I have just been talking to her. He won't be accepted.”

“Don't delude yourself, my dear aunt,” he cried. “Mrs. Calverley would like very much to be Lady Courland, I feel quite sure. She may tell you otherwise. But it is so. She is an ambitious woman.”

“What is to be done?” exclaimed Lady Thicknesse, in consternation.

“We must gain time. I have prevented him from calling here to-day.”

“How did you manage that?”

“By telling him I wanted to ask Charles a few questions. Meantime, you must speak to Emmeline.”

“But I very much fear she won't mind me,” said Lady Thicknesse. “I'll get Sir Bridgnorth to do it.”

“He's the very man for the purpose; and, fortunately, he's in the house. I left him just now with the ladies.”

“Then beg him to come to me,” said Lady Thicknesse.

Scrope needed no second bidding, but immediately quitted the boudoir, and reappeared a few minutes afterwards with the good-natured baronet.

“I won't interrupt the _tête-à-tête_ which her ladyship wishes to have with you, Sir Bridgnorth,” said Scrope as he left them together.

“Pray be seated, Sir Bridgnorth,” said Lady Thicknesse. “I want your advice and assistance.”

“Both are at your ladyship's service,” he replied.

“I expected nothing less from you. You are a real friend. It is a very delicate matter on which I desire to consult you.”

And she paused.

“Does it relate to a matrimonial alliance between Lord Courland and your niece, Miss Barfleur?”

“You have guessed right,” replied Lady Thicknesse. “You can assist me most materially in the affair, if you will. Emmeline, I know, has a very great regard, I may almost say affection, for you, and might possibly speak more freely to you than she would to me. Will you ascertain what her sentiments are respecting Lord Courland?”

“I can give your ladyship the information you desire at once,” replied Sir Bridgnorth, “and shall really be glad to do so. Indeed, I have thought of speaking to you on the subject, but feared you might deem me impertinent. Any expectations your ladyship may have formed of such an alliance must be dismissed. It will never take place.”

“You think so, Sir Bridgnorth?” said her ladyship, looking dreadfully chagrined.

“I am quite sure of it,” he replied. “Miss Barfleur will never accept him.”

“You would not make this assertion so positively without good reason, I am certain, Sir Bridgnorth,” said Lady Thicknesse.

“I had the declaration from Miss Barfleur's own lips,” he replied, “and was requested to repeat it to your ladyship. I am also permitted to mention a circumstance that will prevent any discussion on the subject.”

“You are not about to tell me she is engaged, I hope, Sir Bridgnorth?” said her ladyship, manifesting fresh alarm.

“Such is the fact,” he replied, quietly. “It is desirable you should know the truth.”

“It is proper I should know the _whole_ truth, Sir Bridgnorth,” she rejoined. “To whom is my niece engaged? Speak frankly.”

“To Chetwynd Calverley,” he replied without hesitation.

Lady Thicknesse did not seem much surprised, for she expected the answer; but she said, in a haughty, decided tone:

“That union can never take place!”

A slight smile played on Sir Bridgnorth's kindly countenance.

“I do not see how it can be prevented,” he said. “She is an heiress, and Lady Barfleur's consent has been obtained.”

Lady Thicknesse looked thunderstruck, and remained silent for a few moments, and then said:

“Why have I been kept in ignorance of this engagement? I suppose Emmeline felt I should disapprove of it, as I do most decidedly!”

“I certainly think the matter ought to have been communicated to your ladyship,” said Sir Bridgnorth. “But since the marriage, in all probability, will not take place for some time, I suppose it was not deemed necessary to mention it at present.”

“That explanation does not satisfy me, Sir Bridgnorth! I feel highly offended. I suppose Mrs. Calverley has been in the dark as well as myself?”

“She has,” replied Sir Bridgnorth. “And in her case, I think the caution was judicious. She is not to be trusted with any secrets but her own, and those she can keep. I shouldn't wonder if she wins the prize that has been offered to Miss Barfleur.”

“It seems likely,” said her ladyship. “There is one consolatory circumstance in this disagreeable affair; the marriage will not take place for some time. I trust it may be indefinitely postponed!”

Thinking the interview had lasted long, Sir Bridgnorth arose; but her ladyship would not let him depart thus, and said:

“Pray come and dine with me as usual. I shall expect you at eight. By that time, I hope I shall have got over my vexation. Don't imagine I shall make a scene! I never do make scenes. I shall say nothing to Emmeline till to-morrow. _Au revoir!_”

And she extended her hand to him.

As Sir Bridgnorth took the delicately white fingers, he felt inclined to raise them to his lips; but he didn't, and withdrew.

XII. ANOTHER EXPLANATION.

|Meanwhile, another explanation took place in the drawing-room between Mrs. Calverley and Emmeline.

They were standing close beside a window, looking upon a square, and sufficiently removed from a central table, near which were seated Captain Danvers, with Chetwynd and his sister.

“I have brought you here, my love, to have a few words with you,” commenced Mrs. Calverley. “I am commissioned by Lady Thicknesse to ask a question, which she doesn't like to ask herself. If you haven't already discovered it, I must tell you she has set her heart upon marrying you to Lord Courland.”

“I am very much obliged to her!” said Emmeline. “But I suppose my consent will be first obtained?”

“That is the very point upon which I have undertaken to consult you,” said Mrs. Calverley. “Should his lordship propose, are you inclined to accept him?”

“He is not likely to propose to me,” replied Emmeline. “I may congratulate you on the conquest you have made.”

“I am quite as indifferent to his lordship as you appear to be, my love,” rejoined Mrs. Calverley.

“I shouldn't have supposed so!” laughed Emmeline. “But of course, I take your word for it. Pray tell my aunt I am sorry to disappoint her, but she has made a wrong choice for me!”

“May I add anything more? May I assign a motive for your conduct? May I tell her you are already engaged?”

“Tell her whatever you please, dear Mrs. Calverley; but make her clearly understand that no persuasion shall ever induce me to marry Lord Courland. I surrender him entirely to you!”

“Never mind me! But do tell me who is the highly-favoured individual you have chosen?”

“Can you not guess? There is but one person I could choose, and he is not very far off.”

“Chetwynd?” cried Mrs. Calverley.

“Yes.”

“And you have accepted him?”

Again the answer was in the affirmative. “He is indeed most fortunate?” exclaimed Mrs. Calverley. “One question more and I have done.”

“I know what you would ask,” replied Emmeline. “Mamma has given her consent. But the marriage will not take place for some months.”

“Oh, how delighted I am!” cried Mrs. Calverley, with difficulty refraining from embracing her.

At this juncture Chetwynd arose. He had been watching them, and guessed what they were talking about.

As he approached, Mrs. Calverley sprang forward to meet him.

“Chetwynd,” she said, “I have just received some information that has given me the greatest pleasure. I think I ought to have been let into the secret; but I am too much overjoyed to complain!”

“I am glad the disclosure has been made,” he said. “The maintenance of the secret has placed Emmeline in a false position.”

“But no harm has ensued,” observed the young lady. “I have only just discovered my aunt's scheme, or I should have acquainted her with the engagement. I now regret that I did not do so when I first came to town.”

“And I am at liberty to explain all to Lady Thick-nesse?” inquired Mrs. Calverley.

“You will greatly oblige me,” said Emmeline. “I shall be very glad to escape the task.”

“I will go to her at once,” said Mrs. Calverley.

And quitting the room, she repaired to the boudoir.

There she found that Sir Bridgnorth had been beforehand with her, and, explanations being unnecessary, she talked the matter over quietly with Lady Thicknesse, and endeavoured to reconcile her to the arrangement, apparently with some success.

Mrs. Calverley had quitted the boudoir rather more than half an hour, and Lady Thicknesse was alone, and lamenting the failure of her scheme, when Scrope again made his appearance.

His countenance had a singular expression, and he remained standing, while he said, in rather a stern voice:

“Don't give yourself any concern about Emmeline's imprudent engagement with Chetwynd Calverley, aunt. I have just learnt something that will enable me to put an end to it.”

“You don't say so! What is it?” exclaimed Lady Thicknesse, in surprise.

“I cannot explain now,” he rejoined. “Wait till to-morrow!”

But finding her ladyship could not repress her curiosity, and determined not to gratify it, he abruptly quitted the boudoir, leaving her in a high state of excitement.

XIII. A SOIREE DANSANTE.

|A party was to be given that evening at the house in Belgrave Square; but below stairs, not above.

Exceedingly indulgent to her servants, Lady friends; and he had invited the Tankards, to whom he owed a return, and several others of our acquaintance--namely, Mrs. Tripp and the charming Clotilde; Mrs. Sicklemore and the fair Flora; Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, Harry Netterville, Pledger Dapp, and Larkins--to a _soirée dansante._

Of course, the servants of the house were included, and they mustered very strong--footman, coachman, page, housekeeper, lady's-maid, housemaids, and kitchen maid. Nor must we omit to mention Rose, and Mrs. Calverley's lady's-maid, Laura, who had some pretension to good looks.

Most important, however, of all was the French cook, Monsieur Zephyrus, who next to Mr. Higgins himself, was the principal person in the establishment.

A very smart young man was Zephyrus, when not compelled by the duties of his vocation to disguise himself in a white apron, white _veste_, and white _bonnet-de-nuit._

He now wore an evening dress, made by a fashionable tailor in the Boulevard Italien, the peculiar cut of which proclaimed its French origin; and, as he had a light figure, he looked very well in it.

Zephyrus was not bad-looking, and had a dark complexion, black eyes, and large black whiskers, of which he was not a little vain. When in full dress, as on the present occasion, he wore a _lorgnon_ stuck in his right eye.

On the previous day he had paid a visit to his friend Sigebert Smart, whom he had known in Paris, and invited him and Madame Smart to the party. Both accepted the invitation with delight.

In addition to a piano, brought from upstairs, and on which Mrs. Tripp had kindly consented to perform, a violin, violoncello, and cornet had been provided by Mr. Higgins. Nothing, indeed, was neglected.

The large housekeeper's room, in which dancing was to take place, was brilliantly lighted up and decorated; and supper, prepared by Monsieur Zephyrus himself, was to be served in the _salle à manger_. Nothing was seen of the kitchen.

Not till ten o'clock, when dinner and all other matters upstairs had been disposed of, did the company begin to assemble.

Of course they were obliged to descend the area steps; but, the passage once gained, and the doors thrown open, they were surprised by the splendour of the scene.

They were received by Mr. Higgins, who was supported by Monsieur Zephyrus.

First to arrive were the Tankards. Tom was very much struck by the appearance of Zephyrus, and wondered who he was, never supposing him to be a cook. His father told him he was a _cordon bleu_, but that did not enlighten him; and the marked attentions paid by the gallant Frenchman to Madame Sigebert Smart, when she arrived with her husband, puzzled him still more. He could not understand how such a distinguished-looking personage could be on intimate terms with a _coiffeur_ and his wife.

As soon as he got an opportunity, he said to Sigebert:

“Who's that very polite French gent talking to Madame?”

“Monsieur Zephyrus,” replied the _coiffeur_. “Don't you know him?”

“I don't recollect seeing him before,” remarked Tom. “The guv'nor says he's a _cordon bleu_. What does that mean?”

Scarcely able to refrain from laughing, Sigebert replied:

“It means that he's a knight of the Saint Esprit, The order was given him by Louis Napoleon. Chevalier Zephyrus is entitled to wear a broad blue ribbon, with a cross attached to it, but he doesn't put it on now.”

“He seems a very condescending sort of fellow for a chevalier,” said Tom. “No nonsensical pride about him.”

“None whatever,” replied Sigebert. “You'll find him very affable. But don't talk to him about cookery. He dislikes that subject.”

“I'll take care to avoid it,” said Tom.

By this time, the whole party having assembled--guests and inmates of the house--Mrs. Tripp was conducted to the piano by Higgins, and the musicians began to strike up.

Then it was that Zephyrus, who acted as master of the ceremonies, clapped his well-gloved hands, and exclaimed:

“_Messieurs, un quadrille--prenez vos dames!_”

“That means we're to take our partners for a quadrille. Ma'mzelle,” said Tom, stepping up to Clotilde, “shall I have the honour?”

“Too late, Mr. Tom,” she replied, coquettishly. “Already engaged to Monsieur Zephyrus.”

“Ah, the Chevalier knows how to take care of himself, I perceive!” cried Tom.

“Yes. You'd better look quick, and secure Flora, or she'll be snapped up,” said Clotilde.

Acting on the advice, Tom hurried off, but would have been too late if the thoughtful young lady had not reserved herself for him.

All the cavaliers seemed choosing partners, but the master of the ceremonies would only allow four couples in the first quadrille. These were himself and Clotilde, Tom Tankard and Flora, Harry Netterville and Rose, and Sigebert and Laura.

“Will you be our _vis-a-vis_, Monsieur Grandpot?” he said to Tom.

“With the greatest pleasure, Chevalier,” replied our young friend. “But my name's not Grandpot; I'm Mr. Tom Tankard.”

“_Mille pardons!_” exclaimed Zephyrus. “But we call a tankard a _grand pot d'argent_. Be pleased to take your place, Monsieur Tom.”

The quadrille then commenced.

Monsieur Zephyrus danced with wonderful spirit and lightness, cutting cross capers, forward capers, side capers, back capers--now executing the _boree_ step, the _courant_ step, and the _gaillard_ step--hopping, jumping, bounding, and ending with a pirouette that astonished all the beholders.

Tom Tankard tried to imitate him, but the performance was a mere caricature, and though it excited laughter, must be pronounced a failure.

Sigebert was more successful. He had figured at the Grand Chaumière at Paris, and treated the company to some of the fantastic steps he had seen performed there and at other _salles de danse_ in the Bois de Boulogne.

Though very much amused by what he beheld, Harry Netterville did not indulge in any of these absurdities.

Both Flora and Clotilde danced very well, as they had had some practice at Cremorne, but Rose was very quiet.

A rigadoon followed, which again enabled Monsieur Zephyrus to display his grace and skill; then a valse, in which Flora fell to the share of the Frenchman, and Clotilde to Sigebert. Tom was obliged to content himself with Madame Sigebert, for Rose declined to dance with him.

When the valse was over, a country dance was called for by Mr. Higgins, who wished to dance with Mrs. Tankard, and led off with her. Almost everybody joined in this lively dance, which was carried on with the greatest spirit, and amid much laughter, for more than half an hour.

The elderly people seemed to enjoy it as much as the young folks, but Mr. Higgins and Mrs. Tankard could not go down a second time.

Monsieur Zephyrus, who was evidently quite captivated by Clotilde, induced her to dance with him, to the great disgust of Tom, who began to feel a little jealous of the gay Frenchman. However, Flora contrived to console him.

Harry Netterville and Rose thoroughly enjoyed the merry country dance, and did not feel in the least fatigued by their exertions.

The company then proceeded to supper; where, we have already explained.

The men-servants of the house, who were intended to wait, went in first. Mr. Higgins gave his arm to Mrs. Tankard, and was followed by Mr. Tankard and Mrs. Tripp, Mr. Larkins and Mrs. Hartley, with the rest of the party.

A very elegant supper greeted them--quite a triumph of skill on the part of Monsieur Zephyrus, who had done his best. Iced champagne and moselle cup were to be had in plenty.

Tom Tankard was in raptures.

“By Jove!” he cried; “I never saw a nicer supper! Lady Thicknesse must have a capital cook!”

Monsieur Zeyhyrus, who chanced to be near him, smiled.

“Enchanted to find you are pleased with my performance, Monsieur Tom!” he said.”_Your_ performance, Chevalier!” cried Tom. “You don't mean to say you prepared the supper?”

“_Mais oui, mon cher_,” said Zephyrus, proudly. “I, and no one else. Don't you know I am Lady Thicknesse's cook?”

“Give you my word I wasn't aware of it till this moment,” cried Tom. “I was told you are a _cordon bleu_.”

“And so I am,” said Zephyrus. “But don't you understand that a _cordon bleu_ means a first-rate cook?--that's my description.”

For a few moments Tom seemed lost in astonishment. He then exclaimed:

“The guv'nor's completely taken me in!”

The company did not seem inclined to leave the supper table, and no wonder, considering the excellence of the repast and the abundant supply of champagne.

But Mr. Higgins, who was very careful, thought they had sat long enough, and moved off to the ballroom, where the music again struck up, and dancing recommenced with even more spirit than before.

The only person who looked discontented was Tom Tankard. He had drunk a good deal of champagne, and it had got into his head and made him rather quarrelsome. He felt jealous and angry at the evident preference shown by Clotilde for Monsieur Zephyrus.

They were again engaged in a polka. Ordinarily, Tom was very fond of a polka; but on this occasion he refused to join in the dance, but stood on one side and noticed the passionate glances bestowed by the Frenchman on the inconstant charmer. His breast swelled; but he was obliged to devour his rage.

When the polka ceased several couples proceeded to the supper-room for a glass of champagne and amongst them were Zephyrus and Clotilde. In a minute or two the others came back; but the Frenchman and the fair syren did not appear.

Maddened by jealousy, Tom went in search of them.

As he approached the supper-room, the door of which was partly open, he perceived at a glance that they were alone together, and that Zephyrus, who was seated beside her, was still pouring forth tender speeches in her ear; but they were too much engrossed by each other to notice him.

His first impulse was to rush in upon them; but hearing his own name pronounced, he stood still.

“I hope you don't care for that _grand nigaud_, Tom Tankard,” said Zephyrus. “Indeed, it is hardly possible you can--he is so frightfully ugly, besides being ridiculous and stupid. But I believe he flatters himself you are in love with him.”

“He certainly pays me a great deal of attention,” replied Clotilde; “but if he fancies I am in love with him, he is very much mistaken. In fact, to confess the truth, I am becoming rather tired of him.”

“That gives me hopes,” said Zephyrus. “I shall try and please you better.”

“You please me very much,” said Clotilde. “You dance charmingly--much better than Tom.”

“He cannot dance at all,” said Zephyrus, contemptuously. “But dancing is the least of my accomplishments. I am a skilful musician; I ride well, drive well, shoot well----”

“And cook well,” added Clotilde. “The supper you have given us was perfect.”

“Ah, you shall taste a wedding breakfast; but not prepared for that odious Tom Tankard!”

“For whom, then?” inquired Clotilde.

Before an answer could be returned, Tom rushed into the room, and quite frightened Clotilde by his looks.

“So you are getting tired of me, are you?” he cried to the fickle girl. “How long have you been tired? Only this very morning you said you liked me better than any one else; but this French cook has made you change your mind. He may have you, and welcome. I've done with you for ever.”

“You don't mean it, dear Tom?” she cried, penitentially.

“Yes, I do,” he rejoined, “and I'm glad I've found you out in time. But I can't say much for your choice!” he added, casting a glance of scorn at his rival.

“What have you to say against me, saar?” cried

Zephyrus, with a fierce gesticulation, and shaking his clenched hand at Tom.

“You won't frighten me, monsieur,” observed Tom, quietly. “Consider yourself thrashed.”

“But I won't!” cried Zephyrus. “I never was thrashed, and never will be!”

“Yes you will!” cried Tom.

And being somewhat of a bruiser, he dealt him a smart tap on the nose, or somewhere near it, that knocked him backwards against the table, upsetting a number of glasses with a tremendous crash.

Clotilde ran screaming out of the room.

“_Diable, vous avez poché mon oeil au beurre noir, monsieur!_” cried Zephyrus, as he picked himself up. “But you shall pay for the affront with your life's blood!”

“Don't be afraid, monsieur,” said Tom, stoutly. “I'll give you satisfaction in any way you like; sword, pistol, or this!” he added, holding up his clenched fist.

“But the duel is no longer allowed in your country,” said Zephyrus.

“Then we'll settle our quarrel in yours,” rejoined Tom. “I'll go over with you to Boulogne, or Dieppe, whenever you please.”

While these menaces were exchanged, Mr. Higgins, Mr. Tankard, and several others had entered the room, alarmed by the crash of glass and Clotilde's cries.

They instantly perceived that a conflict had taken place.

“What's the meaning of this disturbance, gentlemen?” cried Mr. Higgins. “Can't you spend the evening quietly?”

“I'm ashamed of you, Tom!” cried Mr. Tankard.

“The quarrel wasn't of my seeking, guv'nor,” said the young man.

“But it won't end here,” cried Zephyrus, holding a handkerchief to his face.

“I hope it will,” rejoined Higgins.

“Tom,” said his father, sternly, “I insist on your making an apology to Monsieur Zephyrus.”

“I make an apology?” rejoined the youth. “Don't expect it, guv'nor.”

“Nor will I accept an apology,” said Zephyrus. “I will have his life! Sigebert,” he added to the _coiffeur_, who had entered the room with the others, “you shall be my _parrain_--my second.”

“With great pleasure,” replied the other.

“If you talk of fighting a duel, I'll have you both bound over to keep the peace,” said Higgins. “But come, we've had quite enough of this nonsense; shake hands like good fellows.”

“I'm quite ready,” said Tom. “I'll either fight or make friends, as suits Monsieur Zephyrus best.”

This was said in such a good-natured way that it pleased the Frenchman, and he seemed disposed to make up the quarrel.

“I'm sorry I hurt you, for I don't believe you're half a bad fellow,” said Tom. “There, will that suffice?”

“_Parfaitement_,” replied Zephyrus, taking the hand offered him.

“Bravo!” cried Higgins. “Now let us all have a glass of champagne, and then we'll go back to the ball-room. We must have a reel.”

“No more dancing for me,” said Tom.

“Nonsense!” cried his father. “I insist that you dance with Clotilde.”

“Do you consent, Monsieur?” said Tom, with a droll look at Zephyrus. “She now belongs to you.”

“You shall have her back altogether, if you like,” replied the Frenchman.

“Nay, I won't tax your generosity so far,” said Tom, with a laugh.

Champagne was here handed round, and, after the brimming glasses had been emptied, they all repaired to the ball-room.

Clotilde flew to Tom on his appearance, and he was foolish enough to forgive her.

A reel was called, in which all the company took part, except poor Monsieur Zephyrus, who was obliged to apply a piece of brown paper, steeped in brandy, to his injured orb.

XIV. AN UNPLEASANT INQUIRY.

|Next morning, about eleven o'clock, Chetwynd found his way, as usual, from the “Grosvenor Hotel” to the house in Belgrave Square.

He had breakfasted very pleasantly with Sir Bridgnorth Charlton, who was staying at the same hotel as himself, and had not the slightest idea that anything disagreeable awaited him; but he was rather struck by Higgins's manner, as he let him in.

Evidently the butler had something to communicate.

It may be proper to mention that, since Chetwynd's resumption of his own name, and appearance in his true character at Lady Thicknesse's, no allusion to the past had ever been made by Higgins, who had always been particularly respectful.

“Mr. Calverley,” he said, as they stood together in the vestibule, “I must prepare you for an interview with her ladyship and Mr. Scrope Danvers. They are in the dining-room, and I am directed to conduct you thither on your arrival. I know nothing, but should any questions be asked me, you may rely on my discretion.”

“I am greatly obliged to you, Higgins,” replied Chetwynd; “but you are at liberty to tell all you know respecting me. I desire no concealment. Of course, I should be glad to throw a veil over the past if I could; but that is impossible.”

No more was said.

The butler ushered him into the dining-room, where he found Lady Thicknesse and her nephew.

Her ladyship received him with her customary good nature, and begged him to be seated; but Scrope's manner was cold and haughty.

After a few preliminary remarks by Lady Thicknesse, Scrope interposed, and in a very grave tone said:

“Will you allow me to ask you a few questions, Mr. Calverley? I shall be sorry to give you pain, but circumstances compel me to adopt this disagreeable course.”

“Since the questions you desire to put refer, no doubt, to a very painful period of my life, it might, perhaps, have been better if you had spoken to me in private,” rejoined Chetwynd. “But proceed.”

“Pray understand that it is at my particular request that Lady Thicknesse is present,” said Scrope. “We have long been aware that some time ago you were in great difficulties, and on bad terms with your father and stepmother; but, until very lately neither of us knew you had attempted to commit suicide.”

“What you have heard is quite true, sir,” replied Chetwynd. “I was driven to desperation by my own folly; but I have never ceased to feel deep remorse for the attempt, and I daily thank Heaven that I was saved from the commission of the sinful act.”

Hitherto Lady Thicknesse had looked down, but she now regarded him with an interest she had never felt before.

“These sentiments do you credit, sir,” said Scrope. “But I must now ask what steps you took immediately after the attempt?”

“I endeavoured to obtain employment.”

“In what way?”

“I decline to answer that question, sir,” replied Chetwynd.

“As you please, sir,” said Scrope. “I can easily obtain the requisite information.”

And he rang the bell. The summons was promptly answered by the butler.

“Higgins,” observed Scrope, “when Charles Brown-low, the former footman, was discharged, did Mr. Tankard apply for the place?”

“He did, sir.”

“For his son?”

“No, sir; for a young man named Walter Liddel.”

“Are you certain that was his real name?”

“I can't be quite sure, sir,” replied Higgins. “At any rate it was the name given me by Mr. Tankard.”

“Did you see the party spoken of?”

“Oh, yes, sir! I saw him at Mr. Tankard's house, and was very much pleased with his appearance. The livery suited him extremely well.”

“Oh! then he had on the livery?”

“Yes, sir. I wished to see how it fitted, and it _did_ fit him to admiration. I never saw such a fine-looking footman in my life.”

“And you engaged him?”

“At once, sir. I thought him a great catch.”

“Did he enter on the situation?”

“Something prevented him. Either his father died quite suddenly, and left him a large fortune, or else he married; I don't recollect which.”

“Be serious, if you please, Higgins. Have you ever seen him since?”

“Not that I am aware of, sir.”

“Should you know him again if you saw him?”

“I don't think I should, sir. I only saw him in livery, and a handsome livery like ours sets a man off to advantage. Are these all the questions you propose to ask me, sir?”

“One more, and I have done; and I beg you will answer it distinctly. Do you see him now?”

“Walter Liddel? No, sir.”

“You are a very cautious fellow, Higgins, but it won't do,” said Scrope.

“Speak out, Higgins,” said Chetwynd. “I have no wish for concealment.”

“Now I look again,” remarked the butler to Scrope, “I should say there is a very strong resemblance between Walter Liddel and Mr. Chetwynd Calverley.”

“Enough!” cried Scrope. “You may retire.” Higgins bowed, and left the room.

“And now,” said Chetwynd, “may I ask the meaning of this inquiry?”

“My object is merely to establish a fact,” replied Scrope. “Lady Thicknesse and myself have just learnt, to our great surprise and annoyance, that our charming relative, Emmeline Barfleur, has had the imprudence to form an engagement with you.”

“Imprudence, sir!” cried Chetwynd.

“I might use a stronger term, but that will suffice. It cannot be very agreeable to those connected with her, that the daughter of the proud Sir Leycester Barfleur, who might marry any one she pleases, should throw herself away upon a--footman!”

Chetwynd absolutely started, but controlled himself by a great effort.

“I now understand your anxiety to secure Lady Thicknesses presence at our interview,” he said. “You have aimed a cowardly blow at me, but it has failed in effect. I treat your observation with scorn!” Then, turning to Lady Thicknesse, he added, “Since your nephew refuses to give me credit for acting like a gentleman, I must inform your ladyship that Emmeline is acquainted with the ridiculous circumstance of which so much has been made, and it merely excited her laughter. I have confessed all my follies and faults to her--_all!_--and she has forgiven me, because she believes in my promises of amendment.”

As he spoke the door opened, and Emmeline herself entered the room, accompanied by Mildred and Sir Bridgnorth Charlton.

XV. EVIDENCE IN CHETWYND's FAVOUR.

|I thought I should be required as an important witness in the inquiry which I understood is going on here,” said Emmeline, stepping quickly forward, “so I have come to give my evidence.”

“You are too late, my love,” said Lady Thicknesse. “The inquiry is over.”

“Has it ended satisfactorily?” asked Emmeline.

“Not to me,” replied Chetwynd. “Your cousin Scrope has endeavoured to show that if you had not intentionally been kept in the dark as to certain matters, you would not have entered into an engagement which he holds to be utterly unworthy of you. Nor has he acknowledged his error, though every assurance has been given him that he is mistaken.”

“Will my amiable but incredulous cousin accept my assurance to the same effect?” observed Emmeline. “He shakes his head, and declines to answer. He is, therefore, out of court. Nevertheless, I will tell him, and all who choose to listen to me, that Mr. Chetwynd Calverley has behaved in the most honourable manner, and has concealed nothing from me. I will also tell my proud cousin, and he may make what use he pleases of the information, that I have engaged myself to as good a gentleman as himself, and that nothing that he or any one else can say will induce me to break my promise.”

“Thank you, from my heart!” said Chetwynd.

“Now is your time to speak, if you have anything to say,” observed Emmeline to her cousin.

But Scrope shrugged his shoulders, and declined the challenge.

“Then I will tell you one thing, which you don't know, and, perhaps, won't believe when you are told it,” said Emmeline. “Chetwynd himself proposed to go through a period of probation before our engagement took place: and he readily agreed that the marriage should be deferred for a year. Will that content you?”

“I should be better pleased if it were postponed altogether!” muttered Scrope.

“Let me say a word for my friend Chetwynd,” interposed Sir Bridgnorth. “As yet, it is somewhat early to declare that he has reformed, but I sincerely believe in his professions, and I feel persuaded he will carry them out.”

“I won't disappoint you, Sir Bridgnorth!” said Chetwynd, earnestly.

“I have entire confidence in you,” rejoined the baronet.

“And so have I,” said Lady Thicknesse. “I am so well satisfied with the explanation that has taken place, that I give my full consent to Emmeline's engagement.”

“I am delighted to hear you say so, dearest aunt!” cried the young lady. “You make me quite happy. It would have grieved me to incur your displeasure. I don't care a bit about Scrope!”

“Won't you even give me credit for the desire to serve you?” said Scrope.

“No. I am displeased by your uncalled-for interference. You do more harm than good!”

“Before deciding against my friend Chetwynd, Scrope,” said Sir Bridgnorth, “you ought to give him a fair trial.”

“That is all I desire,” remarked Chetwynd. “Six months hence, if I have not proved myself worthy of Emmeline, I will retire from the field.”

“I take you at your word,” said Scrope. “Am I to decide the point?”

“No; because you have shown yourself unfair and ungenerous,” said Emmeline.

At this juncture, Captain Danvers entered the room, and uttered an exclamation of surprise on seeing so many persons present.

“I wondered where you all were,” he said. “What important affair have you been discussing?55

“A marriage!” replied Lady Thicknesse.

“And everybody, except Scrope, is pleased with it!” said Emmeline.

“Oh, never mind him!” remarked the captain. “He'll come round to the general opinion.”

“Don't be too sure of that!” said Scrope.

“Ten to one you come round before a month!” said his brother.

“Done!” rejoined Scrope.

“I wish I could bet!” said Emmeline. “I'd lay fifty to one that in less than a week Scrope will own his mistake, and ask my pardon!”

“I'll back you!55 said Sir Bridgnorth, looking at Scrope.

“Taken!” rejoined that person.

“And now let us go up-stairs,” said Lady Thicknesse.

“Not to the drawing-room, dear aunt,” rejoined Captain Danvers.

“Why not there?” inquired her ladyship, surprised.

“Because we should interrupt a very tender interview,” said the captain. “Lord Courland and Mrs. Calverley are in the drawing-room, dear aunt.”

“I should think the affair must be settled by this time,” observed Scrope.

“Give them another quarter of an hour,” said the captain.

The proposition was unanimously agreed to.

That morning, Mrs. Calverley's lady's-maid, Laura, had delivered to her mistress a little _billet doux_ from Lord Courland, entreating the favour of a private interview.

The request was granted, and, through the instrumentality of Mr. Higgins, who was consulted by Laura, it was arranged that the meeting should take place in the drawing-room, the obliging butler undertaking that the pair should not be interrupted.

Never had the charming widow looked more beautiful than on that morning.

As she sat in the drawing-room awaiting Lord Cour-land's appearance, her breast swelled with triumph, and her eyes shone with more than their customary splendour.

Great pains had been taken with her toilette by Laura, who assured her, with a smile, that she looked enchanting, and added that there was not another person in the house to be compared with her.

The fair widow believed what was said, and might be excused for doing so under the circumstances, since she had at once carried off the grand prize from those whom she regarded as competitors.

Lord Courland was enraptured when he beheld her.

He did not throw himself literally at her feet when the discreet Higgins, who had ushered him into the room, had retired, but he manifested all the ardour of an impassioned lover.

He gave utterance to a few expressions of delight as he sat down beside her on the sofa, and pressed her hand to his lips, but his looks were far more eloquent than his words.

XVI. LORD COURLAND PROPOSES TO MRS. CALVERLEY.

|To many a courageous man a proposal is a formidable business, but Lord Courland certainly did not appear to find it so; nor was it necessary for the beautiful widow to give him any encouragement.

“Need I say I adore you?” he exclaimed. “You must be conscious that from the first moment I beheld you I was fascinated by your charms.”

She smiled softly, but made no audible response.

He continued in the same passionate strain.

“Let me have a word to say I am not an object of indifference to you--that you requite my love.”

She regarded him more tenderly than before, but spoke not.

He could not misunderstand the look.

“You love me!” he cried. “Your eyes confess more than your lips are willing to avow! You force me to snatch an answer from them!” he added, suiting the action to the word.

“Now you are mine, Teresa,” he continued, still holding her hand. “Soon to be Viscountess Cour-land, hereafter Countess of Richborough. But you are silent. Speak, I conjure you! Tell me you are content!”

“Can you doubt it?” she replied, with a look that seemed to penetrate the inmost recesses of his breast.

“And you really, truly love me?”

“Really, truly!” she rejoined. “I never loved till now!”

“May I credit this?” he remarked, somewhat incredulously. “I am willing to be deceived.”

“I repeat, you are the only person I have ever really loved.”

Another kiss followed the gratifying assurance, which might possibly have been correct.

“Are you ambitious, Teresa?” asked the enamoured young nobleman.

“I do not think so,” she rejoined. “I am influenced by your agreeable qualities, not by your rank. Though a recommendation, your title would not have gained you my hand.”

“But I ought to tell you I am not very rich, and I shall not have much during my father's lifetime.”

“It matters not,” she replied, with a smile. “I have a tolerably good income, and Ouselcroft is rather a pretty place, as I think you will own when you see it.”

“No doubt. Scrope says you have one of the nicest seats in Cheshire.”

“I cannot contradict him, since I entertain the same opinion myself. But you must come and see it. I shall not prolong my stay in town. Possibly I may return to-morrow.”

“So soon?”

“I have nothing to detain me, and, under present circumstances, I shall be glad to get back.”

“It will be far more agreeable to me to see you at your own house, than here,” observed Lord Courland.

“Then be it so,” she replied. “Come as soon as you please.”

“Shall I bring Scrope Danvers with me?”

“By all means; I have plenty of room. Besides, Brackley, Lady Barfleur's residence, is only a few miles off.”

“Miss Calverley resides with you, I believe?”

“Yes; and a great delight she is to me. I couldn't do without her.”

“And Chetwynd--pardon my asking so many questions--is he also with you?”

“For the present. I hope you like him?”

“I like him immensely. I'm sure we shall get on together uncommonly well. And now, am I at liberty to inform Lady Thicknesse and Scrope that you have consented to become Lady Courland?”

“Yes; I think it will be quite proper to do so,” she replied.

Not many minutes afterwards voices were heard without, the door was thrown open by Higgins, and Lady Thicknesse and most of the persons whom we left below entered the room.

As Lord Courland arose and advanced to meet her ladyship, she could not fail to be struck by his joyous air.

“I hope I may congratulate your lordship?” she said.

“Do I look like a rejected suitor?” he remarked.

“Not exactly,” she replied. “I should say all has gone well.”

“Yes; my suit has prospered,” he said. “But I am entirely indebted to your ladyship for the treasure I have gained.”

“That you have gained a treasure, I am certain,” rejoined Lady Thicknesse. “But I do not see how you owe it to me.”

“Is it not here that I have found it?” he said. “But for you, I might never have met the only person who can make me happy.”

By this time Mrs. Calverley herself had come forward to participate in the general felicitations.

“What think you of this proposed marriage?” observed Sir Bridgnorth, in a low tone, to Chetwynd.

“I think very little about it,” replied the other. “It will never take place.”

“Wherefore not?”

“I cannot explain myself,” said Chetwynd; “but, depend upon it, I am right.”

“Well, time will show,” said Sir Bridgnorth. “I am going down to Charlton to-morrow. Come, and spend a few days with me. I feel certain there will be a general move.”

And so it proved.

No sooner did Mrs. Calverley announce her intention of returning to Ouselcroft on the morrow, than Emmeline and Mildred said they should return at the same time, though Lady Thicknesse besought them to stay a few days longer.

At last, when she could not prevail upon them to remain, she declared she would go down to Haslemere for a short time, and while in Cheshire would come and spend a week with her sister, Lady Barfleur, at Brackley Hall.

Determined not to be left out, Captain Danvers likewise volunteered to go to Brackley. Indeed, from the various plans proposed and discussed, there seemed every prospect that the whole party would soon meet again in the country.

As it was quite impossible that Emmeline and Mildred could part with Rose, it was arranged that she should accompany them; and in the mean time the little damsel was allowed to take leave of her friends.

One of the best dinners Monsieur Zephyrus had ever served formed the farewell entertainment. The merit of the repast was fully appreciated; but the company was not so lively as heretofore.

Next day the party broke up.

Though the purpose for which she had assembled her guests had not been accomplished, good-natured Lady Thicknesse was content, and her congratulations to Mrs. Calverley were sincere.

As to the fair widow, who had now reached the summit of her ambition, she did not attempt to disguise her satisfaction.

Since she had formed the engagement with Lord Courland, a slight but perceptible change had taken place in her demeanour. Her manner to Mildred was more haughty.

Before her departure she had a private conference with her noble suitor, when a good many matters were talked over, but in the pleasantest way possible. In fact, all seemed _couleur de rose_.

Lord Courland attended her to the station, and, while bidding her adieu, she reminded him that in three days she should expect him at Ouselcroft.

“Doubt not you will see me,” he rejoined. In the same railway carriage with Mrs. Calverley were two young ladies, a lady's maid, and two gentlemen. The gentlemen were Chetwynd and Sir Bridgnorth, who were about to accompany the ladies to Chester.

The lady's-maid was remarkably pretty; but there was a tear in her bright eye, the cause of which will be understood when we mention that on the platform stood a tall, black-whiskered young man, gazing wistfully at her.