CHAPTER XXI

Mrs. Boulby's ears had not deceived her; it had been a bet: and the day

would have gone disastrously with Robert, if Mrs. Lovell had not won her

bet. What was heroism to Warbeach, appeared very outrageous blackguardism

up at Fairly. It was there believed by the gentlemen, though rather

against evidence, that the man was a sturdy ruffian, and an infuriated

sot. The first suggestion was to drag him before the magistrates; but

against this Algernon protested, declaring his readiness to defend

himself, with so vehement a magnanimity, that it was clearly seen the man

had a claim on him. Lord Elling, however, when he was told of these

systematic assaults upon one of his guests, announced his resolve to

bring the law into operation. Algernon heard it as the knell to his

visit.

He was too happy, to go away willingly; and the great Jew City of London

was exceedingly hot for him at that period; but to stay and risk an

exposure of his extinct military career, was not possible. In his

despair, he took Mrs. Lovell entirely into his confidence; in doing

which, he only filled up the outlines of what she already knew concerning

Edward. He was too useful to the lady for her to afford to let him go. No

other youth called her "angel" for listening complacently to strange

stories of men and their dilemmas; no one fetched and carried for her

like Algernon; and she was a woman who cherished dog-like adoration, and

could not part with it. She had also the will to reward it.

At her intercession, Robert was spared an introduction to the

magistrates. She made light of his misdemeanours, assuring everybody that

so splendid a horseman deserved to be dealt with differently from other

offenders. The gentlemen who waited upon Farmer Eccles went in obedience

to her orders.

Then came the scene on Ditley Marsh, described to that assembly at the

Pilot, by Stephen Bilton, when she perceived that Robert was manageable

in silken trammels, and made a bet that she would show him tamed. She won

her bet, and saved the gentlemen from soiling their hands, for which they

had conceived a pressing necessity, and they thanked her, and paid their

money over to Algernon, whom she constituted her treasurer. She was

called "the man-tamer," gracefully acknowledging the compliment. Colonel

Barclay, the moustachioed horseman, who had spoken the few words to

Robert in passing, now remarked that there was an end of the military

profession.

"I surrender my sword," he said gallantly.

Another declared that ladies would now act in lieu of causing an appeal

to arms.

"Similia similibus, &c.," said Edward. "They can, apparently, cure what

they originate."

"Ah, the poor sex!" Mrs. Lovell sighed. "When we bring the millennium to

you, I believe you will still have a word against Eve."

The whole parade back to the stables was marked by pretty speeches.

"By Jove! but he ought to have gone down on his knees, like a horse when

you've tamed him," said Lord Suckling, the young guardsman.

"I would mark a distinction between a horse and a brave man, Lord

Suckling," said the lady; and such was Mrs. Lovell's dignity when an

allusion to Robert was forced on her, and her wit and ease were so

admirable, that none of those who rode with her thought of sitting in

judgement on her conduct. Women can make for themselves new spheres, new

laws, if they will assume their right to be eccentric as an

unquestionable thing, and always reserve a season for showing forth like

the conventional women of society.

The evening was Mrs. Lovell's time for this important re-establishment of

her position; and many a silly youth who had sailed pleasantly with her

all the day, was wrecked when he tried to carry on the topics where she

reigned the lady of the drawing-room. Moreover, not being eccentric from

vanity, but simply to accommodate what had once been her tastes, and were

now her necessities, she avoided slang, and all the insignia of

eccentricity.

Thus she mastered the secret of keeping the young men respectfully

enthusiastic; so that their irrepressible praises did not (as is usual

when these are in acclamation) drag her to their level; and the female

world, with which she was perfectly feminine, and as silkenly insipid

every evening of her life as was needed to restore her reputation,

admitted that she belonged to it, which is everything to an adventurous

spirit of that sex: indeed, the sole secure basis of operations.

You are aware that men's faith in a woman whom her sisters

discountenance, and partially repudiate, is uneasy, however deeply they

may be charmed. On the other hand, she maybe guilty of prodigious

oddities without much disturbing their reverence, while she is in the

feminine circle.

But what fatal breath was it coming from Mrs. Lovell that was always

inflaming men to mutual animosity? What encouragement had she given to

Algernon, that Lord Suckling should be jealous of him? And what to Lord

Suckling, that Algernon should loathe the sight of the young lord? And

why was each desirous of showing his manhood in combat before an eminent

peacemaker?

Edward laughed--"Ah-ha!" and rubbed his hands as at a special

confirmation of his prophecy, when Algernon came into his room and said,

"I shall fight that fellow Suckling. Hang me if I can stand his

impudence! I want to have a shot at a man of my own set, just to let

Peggy Lovell see! I know what she thinks."

"Just to let Mrs. Lovell see!" Edward echoed. "She has seen it lots of

times, my dear Algy. Come; this looks lively. I was sure she would soon

be sick of the water-gruel of peace."

"I tell you she's got nothing to do with it, Ned. Don't be confoundedly

unjust. She didn't tell me to go and seek him. How can she help his

whispering to her? And then she looks over at me, and I swear I'm not

going to be defended by a woman. She must fancy I haven't got the pluck

of a flea. I know what her idea of young fellows is. Why, she said to me,

when Suckling went off from her, the other day, 'These are our Guards.'

I shall fight him."

"Do," said Edward.

"Will you take a challenge?"

"I'm a lawyer, Mr. Mars."

"You won't take a challenge for a friend, when he's insulted?"

"I reply again, I am a lawyer. But this is what I'll do, if you like.

I'll go to Mrs. Lovely and inform her that it is your desire to gain her

esteem by fighting with pistols. That will accomplish the purpose you

seek. It will possibly disappoint her, for she will have to stop the

affair; but women are born to be disappointed--they want so much."

"I'll fight him some way or other," said Algernon, glowering; and then

his face became bright: "I say, didn't she manage that business

beautifully this morning? Not another woman in the world could have done

it."

"Oh, Una and the Lion! Mrs. Valentine and Orson! Did you bet with the

rest?" his cousin asked.

"I lost my tenner; but what's that!"

"There will be an additional five to hand over to the man Sedgett. What's

that!"

"No, hang it!" Algernon shouted.

"You've paid your ten for the shadow cheerfully. Pay your five for the

substance."

"Do you mean to say that Sedgett--" Algernon stared.

"Miracles, if you come to examine them, Algy, have generally had a

pathway prepared for them; and the miracle of the power of female

persuasion exhibited this morning was not quite independent of the

preliminary agency of a scoundrel."

"So that's why you didn't bet." Algernon signified the opening of his

intelligence with his eyelids, pronouncing "by jingos" and "by Joves," to

ease the sudden rush of ideas within him. "You might have let me into the

secret, Ned. I'd lose any number of tens to Peggy Lovell, but a fellow

don't like to be in the dark."

"Except, Algy, that when you carry light, you're a general illuminator.

Let the matter drop. Sedgett has saved you from annoyance. Take him his

five pounds."

"Annoyance be hanged, my good Ned!" Algernon was aroused to reply. "I

don't complain, and I've done my best to stand in front of you; and as

you've settled the fellow, I say nothing; but, between us two, who's the

guilty party, and who's the victim?"

"Didn't he tell you he had you in his power?"

"I don't remember that he did."

"Well, I heard him. The sturdy cur refused to be bribed, so there was

only one way of quieting him; and you see what a thrashing does for that

sort of beast. I, Algy, never abandon a friend; mark that. Take the five

pounds to Sedgett."

Algernon strode about the room. "First of all, you stick me up in a

theatre, so that I'm seen with a girl; and then you get behind me, and

let me be pelted," he began grumbling. "And ask a fellow for money, who

hasn't a farthing! I shan't literally have a farthing till that horse

'Templemore' runs; and then, by George! I'll pay my debts. Jews are awful

things!"

"How much do you require at present?" said Edward, provoking his appetite

for a loan.

"Oh, fifty--that is, just now. More like a thousand when I get to town.

And where it's to come from! but never mind. 'Pon my soul, I pity the fox

I run down here. I feel I'm exactly in his case in London. However, if I

can do you any service, Ned--"

Edward laughed. "You might have done me the service of not excusing

yourself to the squire when he came here, in such a way as to implicate

me."

"But I was so tremendously badgered, Ned."

"You had a sort of gratification in letting the squire crow over his

brother. And he did crow for a time."

"On my honour, Ned, as to crowing! he went away cursing at me. Peggy

Lovell managed it somehow for you. I was really awfully badgered."

"Yes; but you know what a man my father is. He hasn't the squire's

philosophy in those affairs."

"'Pon my soul, Mr. Ned, I never guessed it before; but I rather fancy you

got clear with Sir Billy the banker by washing in my basin--eh, did you?"

Edward looked straight at his cousin, saying, "You deserved worse than

that. You were treacherous. You proved you were not to be trusted; and

yet, you see, I trust you. Call it my folly. Of course (and I don't mind

telling you) I used my wits to turn the point of the attack. I may be

what they call unscrupulous when I'm surprised. I have to look to money

as well as you; and if my father thought it went in a--what he

considers--wrong direction, the source would be choked by paternal

morality. You betrayed me. Listen."

"I tell you, Ned, I merely said to my governor--"

"Listen to me. You betrayed me. I defended myself; that is, I've managed

so that I may still be of service to you. It was a near shave; but you

now see the value of having a character with one's father. Just open my

writing-desk there, and toss out the cheque-book. I confess I can't see

why you should have objected--but let that pass. How much do you want?

Fifty? Say forty-five, and five I'll give you to pay to Sedgett--making

fifty. Eighty before, and fifty--one hundred and thirty. Write that you

owe me that sum, on a piece of paper. I can't see why you should wish to

appear so uncommonly virtuous."

Algernon scribbled the written acknowledgment, which he despised himself

for giving, and the receiver for taking, but was always ready to give for

the money, and said, as he put the cheque in his purse: "It was this

infernal fellow completely upset me. If you were worried by a bull-dog,

by Jove, Ned, you'd lose your coolness. He bothered my head off. Ask me

now, and I'll do anything on earth for you. My back's broad. Sir Billy

can't think worse of me than he does. Do you want to break positively

with that pretty rival to Peggy L.? I've got a scheme to relieve you, my

poor old Ned, and make everybody happy. I'll lay the foundations of a

fresh and brilliant reputation for myself."

Algernon took a chair. Edward was fathoms deep in his book.

The former continued: "I'd touch on the money-question last, with any

other fellow than you; but you always know that money's the hinge, and

nothing else lifts a man out of a scrape. It costs a stiff pull on your

banker, and that reminds me, you couldn't go to Sir Billy for it; you'd

have to draw in advance, by degrees anyhow, look here:--There are lots of

young farmers who want to emigrate and want wives and money. I know one.

It's no use going into particulars, but it's worth thinking over. Life is

made up of mutual help, Ned. You can help another fellow better than

yourself. As for me, when I'm in a hobble, I give you my word of honour,

I'm just like a baby, and haven't an idea at my own disposal. The same

with others. You can't manage without somebody's assistance. What do you

say, old boy?"

Edward raised his head from his book. "Some views of life deduced from

your private experience?" he observed; and Algernon cursed at book-worms,

who would never take hints, and left him.

But when he was by himself, Edward pitched his book upon the floor and

sat reflecting. The sweat started on his forehead. He was compelled to

look into his black volume and study it. His desire was to act humanely

and generously; but the question inevitably recurred: "How can I utterly

dash my prospects in the world?" It would be impossible to bring Dahlia

to great houses; and he liked great houses and the charm of mixing among

delicately-bred women. On the other hand, lawyers have married beneath

them--married cooks, housemaids, governesses, and so forth. And what has

a lawyer to do with a dainty lady, who will constantly distract him with

finicking civilities and speculations in unprofitable regions? What he

does want is a woman amiable as a surface of parchment, serviceable as

his inkstand; one who will be like the wig in which he closes his

forensic term, disreputable from overwear, but suited to the purpose.

"Ah! if I meant to be nothing but a lawyer!" Edward stopped the flow of

this current in Dahlia's favour. His passion for her was silent. Was it

dead? It was certainly silent. Since Robert had come down to play his

wild game of persecution at Fairly, the simple idea of Dahlia had been

Edward's fever. He detested brute force, with a finely-witted man's full

loathing; and Dahlia's obnoxious champion had grown to be associated in

his mind with Dahlia. He swept them both from his recollection

abhorrently, for in his recollection he could not divorce them. He

pretended to suppose that Dahlia, whose only reproach to him was her

suffering, participated in the scheme to worry him. He could even forget

her beauty--forget all, save the unholy fetters binding him. She seemed

to imprison him in bare walls. He meditated on her character. She had no

strength. She was timid, comfort-loving, fond of luxury, credulous,

preposterously conventional; that is, desirous more than the ordinary run

of women of being hedged about and guarded by ceremonies--"mere

ceremonies," said Edward, forgetting the notion he entertained of women

not so protected. But it may be, that in playing the part of fool and

coward, we cease to be mindful of the absolute necessity for sheltering

the weak from that monstrous allied army, the cowards and the fools. He

admitted even to himself that he had deceived her, at the same time

denouncing her unheard-of capacity of belief, which had placed him in a

miserable hobble, and that was the truth.

Now, men confessing themselves in a miserable hobble, and knowing they

are guilty of the state of things lamented by them, intend to drown that

part of their nature which disturbs them by its outcry. The submission to

a tangle that could be cut through instantaneously by any exertion of a

noble will, convicts them. They had better not confide, even to their

secret hearts, that they are afflicted by their conscience and the

generosity of their sentiments, for it will be only to say that these

high qualities are on the failing side. Their inclination, under the

circumstances, is generally base, and no less a counsellor than

uncorrupted common sense, when they are in such a hobble, will sometimes

advise them to be base. But, in admitting the plea which common sense

puts forward on their behalf, we may fairly ask them to be masculine in

their baseness. Or, in other words, since they must be selfish, let them

be so without the poltroonery of selfishness. Edward's wish was to be

perfectly just, as far as he could be now--just to himself as well; for

how was he to prove of worth and aid to any one depending on him, if he

stood crippled? Just, also, to his family; to his possible posterity; and

just to Dahlia. His task was to reconcile the variety of justness due

upon all sides. The struggle, we will assume, was severe, for he thought

so; he thought of going to Dahlia and speaking the word of separation; of

going to her family and stating his offence, without personal

exculpation; thus masculine in baseness, he was in idea; but poltroonery

triumphed, the picture of himself facing his sin and its victims dismayed

him, and his struggle ended in his considering as to the fit employment

of one thousand pounds in his possession, the remainder of a small

legacy, hitherto much cherished.

A day later, Mrs. Lovell said to him: "Have you heard of that unfortunate

young man? I am told that he lies in great danger from a blow on the back

of his head. He looked ill when I saw him, and however mad he may be, I'm

sorry harm should have come to one who is really brave. Gentle means are

surely best. It is so with horses, it must be so with men. As to women, I

don't pretend to unriddle them."

"Gentle means are decidedly best," said Edward, perceiving that her

little dog Algy had carried news to her, and that she was setting herself

to fathom him. "You gave an eminent example of it yesterday. I was so

sure of the result that I didn't bet against you."

"Why not have backed me?"

The hard young legal face withstood the attack of her soft blue eyes, out

of which a thousand needles flew, seeking a weak point in the mask.

"The compliment was, to incite you to a superhuman effort."

"Then why not pay the compliment?"

"I never pay compliments to transparent merit; I do not hold candles to

lamps."

"True," said she.

"And as gentle means are so admirable, it would be as well to stop

incision and imbruing between those two boys."

"Which?" she asked innocently.

"Suckling and Algy."

"Is it possible? They are such boys."

"Exactly of the kind to do it. Don't you know?" and Edward explained

elaborately and cruelly the character of the boys who rushed into

conflicts. Colour deep as evening red confused her cheeks, and she said,

"We must stop them."

"Alas!" he shook his head; "if it's not too late."

"It never is too late."

"Perhaps not, when the embodiment of gentle means is so determined."

"Come; I believe they are in the billiard room now, and you shall see,"

she said.

The pair were found in the billiard room, even as a pair of terriers that

remember a bone. Mrs. Lovell proposed a game, and offered herself for

partner to Lord Suckling.

"Till total defeat do us part," the young nobleman acquiesced; and total

defeat befell them. During the play of the balls, Mrs. Lovell threw a

jealous intentness of observation upon all the strokes made by Algernon;

saying nothing, but just looking at him when he did a successful thing.

She winked at some quiet stately betting that went on between him and

Lord Suckling.

They were at first preternaturally polite and formal toward one another;

by degrees, the influence at work upon them was manifested in a thaw of

their stiff demeanour, and they fell into curt dialogues, which Mrs.

Lovell gave herself no concern to encourage too early.

Edward saw, and was astonished himself to feel that she had ceased to

breathe that fatal inciting breath, which made men vindictively emulous

of her favour, and mad to match themselves for a claim to the chief

smile. No perceptible change was displayed. She was Mrs. Lovell still;

vivacious and soft; flame-coloured, with the arrowy eyelashes; a pleasant

companion, who did not play the woman obtrusively among men, and show a

thirst for homage. All the difference appeared to be, that there was an

absence as of some evil spiritual emanation.

And here a thought crossed him--one of the memorable little evanescent

thoughts which sway us by our chance weakness; "Does she think me wanting

in physical courage?"

Now, though the difference between them had been owing to a scornful

remark that she had permitted herself to utter, on his refusal to accept

a quarrel with one of her numerous satellites, his knowledge of her

worship of brains, and his pride in his possession of the burdensome

weight, had quite precluded his guessing that she might haply suppose him

to be deficient in personal bravery. He was astounded by the reflection

that she had thus misjudged him. It was distracting; sober-thoughted as

he was by nature. He watched the fair simplicity of her new manner with a

jealous eye. Her management of the two youths was exquisite; but to him,

Edward, she had never condescended to show herself thus mediating and

amiable. Why? Clearly, because she conceived that he had no virile fire

in his composition. Did the detestable little devil think silly duelling

a display of valour? Did the fair seraph think him anything less than a

man?

How beautifully hung the yellow loop of her hair as she leaned over the

board! How gracious she was and like a Goddess with these boys, as he

called them! She rallied her partner, not letting him forget that he had

the honour of being her partner; while she appeared envious of Algernon's

skill, and talked to both and got them upon common topics, and laughed,

and was like a fair English flower of womanhood; nothing deadly.

"There, Algy; you have beaten us. I don't think I'll have Lord Suckling

for my partner any more," she said, putting up her wand, and pouting.

"You don't bear malice?" said Algernon, revived.

"There is my hand. Now you must play a game alone with Lord Suckling, and

beat him; mind you beat him, or it will redound to my discredit."

With which, she and Edward left them.

"Algy was a little crestfallen, and no wonder," she said. "He is soon set

up again. They will be good friends now."

"Isn't it odd, that they should be ready to risk their lives for

trifles?"

Thus Edward tempted her to discuss the subject which he had in his mind.

She felt intuitively the trap in his voice.

"Ah, yes," she replied; "it must be because they know their lives are not

precious."

So utterly at her mercy had he fallen, that her pronunciation of that

word "precious" carried a severe sting to him, and it was not spoken with

peculiar emphasis; on the contrary, she wished to indicate that she was

of his way of thinking, as regarded this decayed method of settling

disputes. He turned to leave her.

"You go to your Adeline, I presume," she said.

"Ah! that reminds me. I have never thanked you."

"For my good services? such as they are. Sir William will be very happy,

and it was for him, a little more than for you, that I went out of my way

to be a matchmaker."

"It was her character, of course, that struck you as being so eminently

suited to mine."

"Can I tell what is the character of a girl? She is mild and shy, and

extremely gentle. In all probability she has a passion for battles and

bloodshed. I judged from your father's point of view. She has money, and

you are to have money; and the union of money and money is supposed to be

a good thing. And besides, you are variable, and off to-morrow what you

are on to-day; is it not so? and heiresses are never jilted. Colonel

Barclay is only awaiting your retirement. Le roi est mort; vive le roi!

Heiresses may cry it like kingdoms."

"I thought," said Edward, meaningly, "the colonel had better taste."

"Do you not know that my friends are my friends because they are not

allowed to dream they will do anything else? If they are taken poorly, I

commend them to a sea-voyage--Africa, the North-West Passage, the source

of the Nile. Men with their vanity wounded may discover wonders! They

return friendly as before, whether they have done the Geographical

Society a service or not. That is, they generally do."

"Then I begin to fancy I must try those latitudes."

"Oh! you are my relative."

He scarcely knew that he had uttered "Margaret."

She replied to it frankly, "Yes, Cousin Ned. You have made the voyage,

you see, and have come back friends with me. The variability of opals!

Ah! Sir John, you join us in season. We were talking of opals. Is the

opal a gem that stands to represent women?"

Sir John Capes smoothed his knuckles with silken palms, and with

courteous antique grin, responded, "It is a gem I would never dare to

offer to a lady's acceptance."

"It is by repute unlucky; so you never can have done so.

"Exquisite!" exclaimed the veteran in smiles, "if what you deign to imply

were only true!"

They entered the drawing-room among the ladies.

Edward whispered in Mrs. Lovell's ear, "He is in need of the voyage."

"He is very near it," she answered in the same key, and swam into general

conversation.

Her cold wit, Satanic as the gleam of it struck through his mind, gave

him a throb of desire to gain possession of her, and crush her.