Happily for Letty, who, by the time she was handed into the sinister chair in Mr. Tilton’s room, was in a quake of fright, that worthy practitioner could find nothing amiss with her teeth. In his opinion, the pain she was enduring so bravely was due to a nervous tic. He recommended bed, and a few drops of laudanum as a composer: a prescription which Nell inexorably forced her unwilling sister to carry out, with the result that by four o’clock Letty announced herself to be perfectly cured, and got up to array herself for the evening’s party. She was not in spirits, but somewhat to Nell’s surprise, and greatly to her relief, she had made no further reference, after a bitter outburst on the previous evening, to Cardross’s cruelty. She seemed to have realized that there could be no moving him; and while the droop to her mouth, and the brooding look in her eyes, held out every promise of a fit of the sullens, Nell could not but feel she could bear this better than the exhausting and quite fruitless discussions she had lately been compelled to enter into.
Dysart did not come, but as the retired gentleman’s gentleman, in whose establishment he resided, rather thought that he had gone out of town to see a prize-fight, this was not wonderful. Nell could only hope that he would find the time to send a written answer to her letter, since, if he were to call in person in Grosvenor Square on the following day, he would not find her at home. She was engaged to take Letty to an al fresco party at Osterley.
There was no letter from him in the morning; and had her hostess been any other than Lady Jersey, whom it would be very dangerous to offend, she would have been much inclined to have cried off from the party. It was impossible to do so, however, without giving grave offence, for Lady Jersey had been one of the guests at her loo-party, and would certainly not believe any tale of sudden indisposition.
“Oh, no!” Letty agreed. “It would be quite shocking if you did not go! But I am sure I need not, for I have not the least heart for it, besides being teased by this horrid tic. I mean to stay at home, with a shawl round my head.”
“And Paley’s Sermons in your hand, I daresay!” exclaimed Nell. “For shame, Letty! You have no more tic than I have!”
“Even if I have not I won’t be forced to go to parties when I am in the deepest affliction!” said Letty, flushing. “I don’t doubt it would suit Cardross very well to be able to say that if I continue to do so it is plain he has not done his best to break my heart, but he shan’t have that satisfaction, and so you may tell him! I won’t go!”
“Indeed, Letty, you must go!” Nell said earnestly. “You cannot, surely, wish to have your affairs made the subject of gossip! Think how vexed you were when Lady Sefton and Lady Cowper came here on Sunday to try if they could discover what truth there is in the rumours that are going about! Pray do not wear your heart on your sleeve, my dear! it is so very unbecoming!”
“I won’t go!” Letty reiterated mulishly.
“Won’t go where?” asked Cardross, coming into the room in time to hear this declaration.
“I won’t go to Osterley with Nell! And I don’t care if people do gossip!”
“Of course you will go to Osterley!” he said calmly. “What excuse could you possibly offer for crying off?”
“I have already told Nell I have the tic, and if she doesn’t choose to believe me she need not, but you can neither of you force me to go!”
“Doesn’t Nell believe you? How unfeeling of her! I believe you, my pet, and I will send a message round to Dr. Baillie, desiring him to call.” He added, the glimmer of a smile at the back of his eyes: “My own engagements are of no particular moment, and I will promise to remain at home with you.”
“Rather than endure your company I will go to Osterley!” said Letty, quivering with suppressed fury.
“Yes, I thought you would,” he observed, holding the door for her to pass out of the room. He raised an eyebrow at Nell, and said, as he shut the door again: “What mischief is she plotting? A clandestine meeting with Allandale?”
“I don’t know,” Nell said worriedly. “I hope not, but I own I can’t feel easy about her: I do most sincerely sympathize with her, but it will not do for her to be meeting him in such a way. You won’t mention this to her, but I fear she has let her partiality for him be too clearly seen, and there is already a little gossip about her, in a certain set.”
“The devil there is! Take care, then, she doesn’t give you the slip! Secret meetings I will not endure!”
“No, indeed! But I have been wondering, Cardross, if you would permit me to invite Mr. Allandale to dine with us before he leaves England. Poor Letty! it is very hard if she is not even to be granted the opportunity of taking leave of him.”
“Lending my countenance to an engagement of which I disapprove?” he said quizzically.
“Not more than you have done already, in saying that they may be married when he returns from Brazil!” she urged. “I am persuaded she would be very sensible of your kindness in granting her that indulgence; and then, you know, there would be no need for her to meet him without our knowledge.”
He looked skeptical, but shrugged, and said: “Very well: you may do as seems best to you.”
“Thank you! I will tell her, and I do hope it may comfort her a little.”
But Letty, informed of the treat in store, betrayed no enthusiasm for it; nor, when Nell represented to her the impropriety of her meeting Mr. Allandale in secret, did she return any very satisfactory answer. She sat beside Nell in the carriage looking the embodiment of discontent, but grew rather more cheerful at Osterley. She was always susceptible to admiration, and she received so many compliments on her appearance in a new and dashing dress of pale lemon-coloured crape worn over a slip of white sarsnet, that Nell soon saw, to her relief, that she had abandoned her die-away air, and was prepared to enjoy herself.
Shortly after noon the porter at Cardross House opened the door to the Viscount Dysart. His lordship, who was dressed for travel, in breeches and top-boots, trod briskly into the hall, and demanded his sister. Upon learning that she had gone off on an expedition of pleasure with the Lady Letitia, he looked first thunderstruck, and then wrathful, and exclaimed: “Gone to Osterley? Well, hell and the devil confound it! Did she leave any message for me?”
No, the porter said apologetically, he did not think her ladyship had left a message, unless, perhaps, with Farley.
The Viscount turned an impatient and an enquiring look upon Farley, who had appeared from the nether regions, and was bowing to him with stately civility. “Did her ladyship say when she would be back?” he demanded.
“No, my lord—merely that she had no expectation of being late. I understand it is an al fresco party: something, doubtless, in the nature of a pic-nic.”
“Well, if that don’t beat all hollow!” said the Viscount involuntarily, and in accents of disgust.
“I fancy that his lordship has not yet gone out, my lord, if you would care to see him? Mr. Kent was with him but—”
“No, no, I won’t disturb him, if he’s got his man of business with him!” interrupted Dysart, with aplomb. “In fact, there’s no need to tell him I called: came to see her ladyship on a private matter!”
“Just so, my lord,” said Farley, accepting with a wonderful air of unconsciousness the handsome douceur which the Viscount bestowed on him.
“I’ll step up to her ladyship’s dressing-room, and write a note to her,” said Dysart. “And you’d better give me my hat again! I don’t want his lordship to catch sight of it.”
However, the porter undertook to keep the hat hidden from his master’s eyes, so Dysart, quite unembarrassed, told him to see that he did, and, declining escort, went off up the broad stairway.
“As bold as Beauchamp, that’s what he is,” remarked the porter, carefully setting the hat down under his huge chair. “Down as a hammer, up like a watch-boy! Got some new bobbery on hand from the look in his ogles. Ah, well! he ain’t one of the stiff-rumped sort, that’s one thing, and it don’t matter to him if he’s swallowed a spider: you won’t catch him forgetting to tip a cove his earnest! There’s plenty as wouldn’t give me more than a borde for hiding their tiles, but you mark my words if he don’t fork out a hind-coach-wheel! What did he drop in your famble, Mr. Farley?”
But Farley, revolted by such vulgar curiosity, merely withered him with a stare before retiring again to his own quarters.
Twenty minutes later the Viscount came lightly down the stairs again, pausing for a moment on the half-landing to make sure the coast was clear. Encouraged by a nod and a wink from the porter, he descended the last half-flight, and handed over a sealed billet. “Give that to her ladyship, will you, George?”
“Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord!” said the porter, as a large and shining coin followed the billet.
“And if you want a sure thing for the King’s Plate at Chester tomorrow,” added the Viscount, setting his high-crowned beaver on his head, and pulling on his gloves, “put your blunt on Cockroach!”
The porter thanked him again, but with less fervour. A keen student of the Turf, he perceived that his lordship had taken to betting the long odds, and he could only regret his imprudence: if that was his new lay there would be a sad dwindling of the stream of heavy silver coins that fell from his hand.
Nell, eagerly deciphering the scrawl some hours later, in the privacy of her bedchamber, no sooner made herself mistress of its contents than she read it a second time, more slowly, and with a knit brow, unable to decide whether she ought to be consoled by its message, or alarmed.
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