She was silent for a moment, her eyes lifted to his profile. He was watching Amanda, but as though he was conscious of Hester’s regard, he turned his head, and smiled down at her. “Don’t you agree?”

“Perhaps you are right,” she said. “Oh, yes, I expect you must be! She will very likely change her mind.”

Chapter 6

By the time dinner came to an end, several persons at the table were fully persuaded that however innocent the relationship between Sir Gareth and Amanda might be, Sir Gareth was far more interested in that lively damsel than was at all seemly in one on the verge of proposing marriage to another lady. He was placed between Hester and Lady Widmore, on the opposite side of the table to Amanda, and while he conversed with easy good manners with both of these ladies, it was noticed that his attention was seldom wholly distracted from Amanda. What no one could have guessed from his demeanour was that his interest was not at all pleasurable, or that this informal dinner-party would live in his memory as the most nerve-racking function he had ever attended.

That he must keep a watchful eye on Amanda had been decided at the outset, when he saw her, after doubtfully considering the wine the butler had poured into her glass, take a cautious sip. Probably one glass would do her no harm, but if that fool of a butler tried to refill it, intervene he must. She was behaving with perfect propriety, but she was undoubtedly flown with pink silk and compliments, and was receiving every encouragement from Fabian Theale to overstep the bounds of decorum. Sir Gareth was not particularly acquainted with Mr. Theale, but he knew him by reputation. Ten minutes spent in listening with half an ear to Mr. Theale’s conversation confirmed his belief in all the most scandalous stories he had heard of that enterprising gentleman, and imbued him with a strong desire to plant him a flush hit with a right justly famed in Corinthian circles.

But Amanda was not unacquainted with middle-aged roués who adopted a fatherly air in their dealings with her; and Amanda, however elated, had by no means lost her head. She was prepared to enjoy to the full a slightly intoxicating evening undimmed by the repressive influence of a careful aunt, but not for one moment did she forget the end she meant to achieve. She had passed the entire company under review, and had rapidly reached the conclusion that the only possible ally was Mr. Theale. While her face wore an expression of flattering interest in what he said to her, and her pretty lips formed appropriate answers, her brain was busy with the problem of how to turn him to good account.

For his part, Mr. Theale was bent on discovering, before the evening was out, in what relation she stood to Sir Gareth. A worldly man, he agreed with his brother in thinking it in the highest degree unlikely that Ludlow would have brought a little barque of frailty to Brancaster; on the other hand, he could see that Ludlow was keeping a jealous eye on her, and it was entirely beyond his comprehension that he might be doing so from altruistic motives. The story of the relations at Oundle he had disbelieved from the outset; and since, in his experience, no young lady of gentle birth was ever permitted to walk abroad unattended, he was much inclined to think that Amanda was not the schoolroom miss she appeared to be, but, on the contrary, a remarkably game pullet. If that were indeed the case, he would be strongly tempted to take her off Sir Gareth’s hands. She was as pretty as she could stare: just the type of ladybird he liked. Young, too, and inexperienced, which would make a pleasant change from the harpy lately living under his protection. Probably she would be grateful for little trumpery gifts, not, like the high flyers, always keeping her fingers crooked into his purse.

These ruminations were interrupted by the departure of the ladies from the dining-room. The cloth was removed, and the decanters set upon the table, but the Earl, contrary to his usual custom, did not encourage his guests to linger over the port. In his opinion, the sooner Sir Gareth was given the opportunity to pop the question to Hester the better it would be. He might not be a paragon amongst fathers, but he was not so improvident as to run the risk of allowing his daughter’s suitor to present himself to her in a slightly bosky condition. So, at the end of half an hour, he said that they must not keep the ladies waiting, and rose from the table. He wondered whether it would be well to detach his prospective son-in-law from the rest of the party, and to thrust him and Hester into some room apart, but decided that it would probably be wiser to leave Sir Gareth to make his own opportunity for private speech with Hester. He led the way, therefore, to one of the suites of saloons ranged along the south side of the house. These opened on to a broad terrace, commanding views of the pleasure-gardens, and a small lake; and, since the evening was sultry, the long windows had not yet been closed against the night air.

Strains of Haydn greeted the gentlemen, when the Earl threw open the door into the drawing-room, and Amanda was discovered, seated at the pianoforte, and playing a sonata with considerable verve, if not with strict accuracy.

For this, Lady Widmore had been responsible. Upon first entering the room, she had supposed, with the too evident intention of discomfiting the unbidden guest, that Miss Smith was proficient upon the instrument, and had begged her to indulge her with a little music. As her ladyship was almost tone-deaf, she might have been said to have been rightly served for her malice, since Amanda, instead of being obliged to confess ignorance of an accomplishment indispensable to any female with the smallest claim to gentility, had, in the most complaisant way imaginable, instantly embarked on a very long and dull sonata.

Mr. Theale, sharing her ladyship’s dislike of chamber music, and prohibited by his brother’s violent disapproval from indulging one of his favourite vices within the walls of Brancaster, slid unobtrusively away to enjoy a cigarillo in the moonlit garden; but the other gentlemen bravely entered the drawing-room, and disposed themselves about it, Mr. Whyteleafe, to the Earl’s annoyance, nimbly appropriating a chair at Lady Hester’s elbow. Sir Gareth walked over to the window, and stood leaning his shoulders against the frame, his eyes on the fair performer.

“I am at a loss for words,” whispered Mr. Whyteleafe, “to convey to you my sentiments upon this occasion, Lady Hester. I can only say that if I am not surprised I am profoundly shocked. Your feelings I can readily imagine!”

“Oh, no, I don’t think you can,” she responded, with a gleam of amusement. “But pray hush! You must not talk just now, you know.”

He relapsed into silence, and his resolve to address such words to Lady Hester as must fortify her against the ordeal of having her hand solicited by one whom he clearly perceived to be a libertine of the most unblushing order was frustrated by Lady Widmore, who, as soon as Amanda stopped playing, began at once to make loud plans for the further entertainment of the company, and commanded him to set out a card-table. Breaking in with the rudeness for which she was famed on the compliments being paid to Amanda, she announced that a rubber of casino would be just the thing, adding, with a jolly laugh, as she caught the Earl’s starting eye, that she knew better than to expect him or Fabian to take part in this amusement.

“And Hester doesn’t care for cards, so if you and Fabian choose to play piquet, as I don’t doubt you will, Sir Gareth must entertain her, and that will leave four of us to make up a snug game,” she said.

Even her husband, who was inured to her ways, felt that this attempt to provide Sir Gareth with an opportunity to propose to Hester was rather too blatant to be encouraged; and the Earl, mentally apostrophising her as a cowhanded thruster, considered it enough to put up the backs of both interested parties. While her ladyship bustled about the room, directing the reluctant chaplain where to place the table, and searching for a couple of packs of cards in various chests, both he and Lord Widmore endeavoured to dissuade her from these exertions. Lady Hester, murmuring that she rather thought that the cards had last been used by the nursery party, went away to retrieve them; and Amanda, snatching the chance offered by the preoccupation of her hosts, slipped out on to the terrace, saying in a fierce whisper as she went past Sir Gareth: “I wish to speak to you alone!”

He followed her beyond the range of the window, but said, as soon as he came up with her: “Take care, Amanda! You will set the household by the ears by such improper conduct as this. Do remember that you are the daughter of a friend of mine, who is by far too well brought-up to indulge in anything so fast as a tête-à-tête in the moonlight!”

“I am not the daughter of any friend of yours, and I have a very good mind to tell Lord Brancaster so!” she said crossly.

“I don’t think I should, if I were you. Is that what you wished to tell me?”

“No, it is not!” She paused, and then said airily: “In fact, I don’t wish him to know the truth, because it so chances that Lady Hester has very kindly invited me to remain here for a visit, and I have made up my mind to do so.”

He laughed. “Have you, indeed?”

“Yes, so you may be quite at your ease, and not tease yourself about me any more,” Amanda said kindly.

“Now, that,” said Sir Gareth, much moved, “is a singularly beautiful thought! Tell me, by the way, what put the notion into your head that you had to deal with a flat?”