She considered this calmly, before saying: “There is a want of conduct in him that vexes me very much, but I cannot suppose that he would go so far as to force such a quarrel upon his cousin as I collect you have in mind, my dear Matthew.”

It was what he had in mind, but he exclaimed instantly: “Good God, I hope not indeed! It does not bear thinking of!” He took a hasty turn about the room. “I wish I knew what to do for the best! I don’t understand Vincent: I have frequently been shocked by the reckless things he will do. His temper, too! Then the feeling he seems to have for this place: one would imagine he had always expected to inherit it, but that is absurd! And—But I will not say all I feel upon this occasion!”

“You are afraid that Vincent may force a duel on his cousin,” she said relentlessly. “I cannot think it possible. If he did so, it could only be with the intention of putting a period to Hugh’s life, and that, my dear sir, would be such an infamous act as I am persuaded no son of ours would be capable of performing.”

“No, no, of course not!” he said. “Good God, I should hope—Aurelia, my father told me this evening that he wishes Vincent to remain here for a week or two! I had had no notion that anything like that was in the air, and I cannot like it. I ventured to suggest to my father that it would be wiser to let Vincent go, but you know what he is! He will never listen to one word of advice. Indeed, he is becoming so—However, I do not mean to discuss that! But I don’t deny that I am excessively uneasy, and could almost wish it were not necessary for me to be in London next week. However little intention Vincent may have of bringing things to a—a fatal conclusion, I cannot rid myself of the apprehension that a quarrel might flare up; and I do not scruple to tell you, ma’am, that I do not feel that any dependence may be placed on my father’s nipping anything of that nature in the bud. In fact, the suspicion flashed across my mind—But that’s nonsense, of course! You will not regard it, I beg!”

“Certainly not,” she replied. “I believe you are overanxious, and although I place no more reliance than you do upon your father’s behaving as he ought I am strongly of the opinion that we may place every reliance on Major Hugh Darracott’s good sense. Of the amiability of his disposition even you can have no doubt. I have observed him narrowly, and have been agreeably surprised. He is a man of principle; his temper is equable; his manners perfectly gentlemanlike and unaffected. The only fault I perceive in him is a tendency to levity, but—”

“Levity?”broke in Matthew.

“If it escaped your notice, my dear sir, that his atrocious brogue overcame him only when it had been made deplorably plain to him that his family held him in contempt, I can only say that it did not escape mine.”

“You mean to tell me—No, I don’t believe it! He slips into it when he forgets to guard his tongue! If he is shamming it—Well, upon my word, what infernal impudence!”

“I am no friend to levity, but I cannot but acknowledge that in taking his family’s hostility in good part he showed himself to be a man of considerable forbearance,” said her ladyship repressively.

He coloured, and looked discomfited. Lady Aurelia, satisfied that her words had gone home, continued in precisely the same composed tone: “As to Vincent, though I do not anticipate any such issue as you have suggested, I daresay it would be wiser for me to remain at Darracott Place, instead of returning with you to Mount Street.”

His expression changed to one of relief. “Should you dislike it, ma’am? I own, I should be easier in my mind, for although you may say Vincent does not listen to you, I am tolerably certain that while you are at hand he will take care to keep within bounds. But I don’t mean to press you: it is not an object with my father to make his guests comfortable!”

“My dear sir, I hope my mind is stronger than you believe it to be! I do not suffer from an excess of sensibility. I have never allowed your father’s odd humours to sink my spirits, and it would be a strange thing if I did so now, after nearly thirty years. I am perfectly willing to remain, particularly so because Elvira has twice expressed her wish that I should stay to support her through this very awkward time.”

“Ay, no doubt she must be dreading your departure! I hadn’t thought of that, but I promise you I pity her with all my heart! She is thrown into high fidgets by no more than a rough word from my father. If she could school herself to be a little less in alt she would go on better with him, but her understanding I have never thought superior. I only wish you may not find it a bore to be continually with her!”

“You may be easy on that head. We have the habit of easy intercourse, and if she has little force of mind she is always so good-natured and attentive that you need entertain no fears that I shall not be comfortable.”

With these words, Lady Aurelia picked up her book again, and Matthew, interpreting this as a sign that the audience was at an end, imprinted a salute upon her cheek, and took himself off to his own room.

Hugo, meanwhile, had been strolling up and down the terrace, and enjoying the solace of one of his forbidden cigars. His countenance was thoughtful; and when he presently sat down on the parapet there was the hint of a crease between his brows. He remained there for some little time, staring abstractedly before him; but presently some small sound caught his attention, and he turned his head to look searchingly across the shadowed garden below. The moonlight was faint, obscured by broken clouds, but he was able to discern a vague figure striding across the lawn towards the house. He remained motionless, and in another minute or two recognized Vincent. It was not until Vincent had reached the foot of the shallow stone steps that he perceived his cousin. He paused, looking up, and said: “Ah! Ajax! Taking the air, or is it possible you were waiting for me?”

“Just blowing a cloud,” replied Hugo, lifting his hand to show the butt of the cigar between his fingers.

“A filthy habit—if you don’t object to my saying so?”

“Nay, why should I?”

Vincent mounted the steps leisurely. “Who am I to instruct you? I daresay you know why you should not, at all events.”

“Oh, yes, I know that!” Hugo said serenely.

“Your compliance is only equalled by your amiability—and I find both insupportable.”

“There’s no need to tell me that. I’m sorry for it, but happen you’d find me insupportable whatever I did.”

“Almost undoubtedly. I find virtue a dead bore. I have very little myself. I don’t know how it is, but the virtuous are invariably dull, which I can’t bring myself to pardon.”

Hugo’s deep chuckle sounded. “Nay then! You’re trying to hoax me! To think of you calling me virtuous! You’ll have me blushing like a lass!” He pitched the butt of his cigar into one of the flowerbeds below. When he turned again towards Vincent he spoke in a different tone, and with less than his usual drawl. “Sithee, Vincent! Squaring with me won’t help either of us. I’d be very well suited if you were in my shoes, but there’s no way of bringing that about, and naught for either of us to do but make the best of it.”

“Yes, you wrote as much to my grandfather, didn’t you?” Vincent said. “A mistake! It didn’t turn him up sweet at all. He’s a hard man to gammon, and that, you know, was doing it much too brown.”

Hugo heaved a despairing sigh. “You’re as daft as he is! I can understand that you should think it a grand thing to inherit all this, for you’ve known it your life long, and I don’t doubt it’s home to you. It’s not home to me, and why any of you should have got it stuck in your heads that I’d want to be saddled with a place that’s falling to ruin I’ll be damned if I know!”

“To you, I feel sure, it must seem a sad, rubbishing place—almost a hovel, in fact!”

“Nay, I didn’t mean to offend you! It’s a fine old house, but it’s like everything else I’ve seen: there’s been no brass spent on it for many a day, and it’ll take a mountain of brass to set it to rights. As for the land, I’ve a notion there’s something more than brass needed, and that’s better management. I can see I’ll have a hard job on, and one to which I wasn’t bred. Eh, it’s more like a millstone tied round my neck than a honey-fall!”

“And the title, of course, means nothing to you!”

“I’d as lief be without it,” admitted Hugo.

“Humdudgeon! Are you really such a Jack Adam’s as to think I’ll swallow that?”

“Suit yourself!” Hugo answered. “If that’s the way it is with you, there’s no good talking.”

“None whatsoever—for you would certainly be unable to understand what it means to be Darracott of Darracott Place! You do not appear to me even to understand that I dislike you!”

“Oh, I understand that!” Hugo said, with another chuckle. “If there were any cliffs here you’d be ettling to push me over the edge, wouldn’t you?”

“The temptation would be almost irresistible, but I hardly think I should go to those lengths. Let us say that if you tottered on the verge I shouldn’t pull you back from it!” Vincent retorted.

“It ’ud be a daft thing for you to do, think on,” said Hugo reflectively. “You’d go over with me, choose how!”

Chapter 10

Major Darracott spent the next week acquainting himself as best he might with his future inheritance. He received no assistance and very little encouragement from his grandfather, his tentative suggestion that my lord enlighten his ignorance being met with a crushing snub. My lord had not enjoyed the novel experience of being left without a word to say, nor was he accustomed to meet with disagreement in the bosom of his family. His sons and his grandsons, and even his spirited granddaughter, had learnt the wisdom of refraining from argument, in general receiving his more dogmatic utterances in silence, and never forcing him into the position of being obliged to defend the indefensible. Such divergent opinions as they might have held remained unuttered, under which arrangement they were at liberty, for anything his lordship cared, to differ from him as much as they chose. It had come, therefore, as a shock to him when Hugo (an upstart, as near to being misbegotten as made no odds), instead of keeping to himself his shabby-genteel notions of morality had not only owned to them without hesitation when challenged, but had had the effrontery to maintain them in the teeth of his grandfather’s disapprobation. That he had taken little part in the resultant argument in no way alleviated my lord’s anger. What he had said had served to compel Matthew, uneasily conscious of his office, to support him. My lord was indifferent to Claud’s revolt, but Matthew’s defection had infuriated him. Forgetting that it was not Hugo, but Vincent, who had tossed the bone of dissension into their midst, he saw Hugo as an impudent make-bait, too full of north-country bumptiousness to realize that he had nothing to do but to hold his peace amongst the relatives who had magnanimously admitted him to a place within their ranks. Far from conducting himself with becoming humility he had, in his maddeningly simple way, exposed the weakness of his grandfather’s case; and, to crown his iniquity, he had recognized and laughed at the absurdity of an aphorism hastily uttered as a clincher to a losing argument.