Wild Margaret. Garvice Charles
nice voices at all, and they mostly sing 'We won't go home till morning,' or 'He's a jolly good fellow,' and their voices sound rather unsteady as they go along the pavement. Those are the London kind of nightingale! Oh, what a lovely night – "
"Put a shawl on, Madge!" called the old lady. "Come back now; I can't have you catching cold the very first night!"
"Shawl? I haven't such a thing!" laughed Margaret. "This will do, won't it?" and catching up an antimacassar she threw it round her shoulders and ran out.
Dinner at Leyton Court was a stately function. Very often the earl, as Mrs. Hale had said, would make his meal of a morsel of fish or a tiny slice of mutton, but all the same an elaborate menu was prepared, and the courses were served with due state and ceremony by the butler and two footmen.
This night, in honor of Lord Blair, the dinner was more elaborate than usual; Mr. Stibbings had selected his choicest claret, and a bottle of '73 Pommery, and had himself superintended its icing. Already, although he had only been in the house a few hours, the young man had won the hearts of the servants!
But notwithstanding the choice character of the wines and the elaborate menu, Lord Blair seemed rather absent-minded and preoccupied. The earl was silent, almost grimly so, but the young man seemed not grim by any means, but dreamy. The fact was that the face of the young girl who had called him a savage yesterday, and whom he had seen again in the gallery this evening, was haunting him.
And – he wondered when and how he could see her again.
Of course he knew, as well as did Mrs. Hale, that there should be no acquaintanceship between Viscount Leyton and the granddaughter of his uncle's housekeeper, but he did not think of that, and, if he had, the reflection would not have stifled the desire to find her out and get a few more words from those sweet lips, one more smile or glance from the lovely eyes.
So that, what with Lord Blair being Margaret-haunted, and the earl being possessed by the fact of his nephew's wickedness, the grand dinner was anything but hilarious.
They talked now and again, but long before the dessert appeared they had dropped into a mutual silence. Then Mr. Stibbings carried in, daintily and carefully, a bottle of the famous Leyton port, and, with the air of one bestowing a farewell benediction, glided out and left the two gentlemen alone.
"Do you drink port, Blair?" said the earl, with his hand on the decanter.
"Yes, sir; I drink anything," replied the young man, awaking with a little start.
"You have a good digestion – good constitution?" said the earl.
"Oh, yes," assented Lord Blair, cheerfully; "I suppose so. Never had a day's illness in my life that I can remember, and can eat anything."
The earl looked at him musingly.
"And yet – " he paused, "your habits are not regular; you keep late hours?"
Lord Blair laughed.
"I'm seldom in bed before ten," he said. "Yes," he added, "I'm afraid I don't keep very good hours; it's generally daylight before I am in my little cot. What capital port, sir!"
"Yes? I do not drink it," said the earl.
There was silence for a moment, during which the elder man looked at the handsome face and graceful, stalwart figure of the younger one. Lord Blair was one of those men who look at their best in evening dress, and the earl could not help admiring him. Then he sighed.
"Have you thought over the words that passed between us this afternoon, Blair?" he asked.
"Well – I'm afraid I haven't," he admitted, frankly.
The earl frowned.
"And yet they were important ones – especially those which referred to your future, Blair. We have not seen much of each other – perhaps wisely – "
"I dare say," said Lord Blair, cheerfully. "People who can't agree are better apart, sir."
"But," continued the earl grimly, and not relishing the interruption, "but I would wish you to believe that I have your best interests at heart."
"Thank you, sir. I will take another glass of port."
"And in no surer way can these interests be promoted than by your marriage with Violet Graham."
Lord Blair frowned slightly, then he smiled.
"'Pon my word, sir, I'm sorry to refuse you anything, especially after all your liberality; but it isn't to be done."
"Why not?" demanded the earl coldly.
Lord Blair hesitated, then he laughed grimly.
"Well, I suppose we can't hit it off; we don't care for each other."
The earl frowned.
"I have every reason to believe that Violet would be willing – "
"Oh, it's all a mistake, sir!" broke in Lord Blair quickly. "Nothing of the kind! Violet doesn't care a straw for me! And as to breaking her heart, as you said this afternoon, why" – he laughed – "she's the last girl in the world for that sort of thing! No, we thought we could manage it, but we found pretty soon that it wouldn't work, and so – and so – well, we just broke it off!"
"I can understand!" said the earl, grimly. "You wearied her with your dissipation, and stung her by your neglect."
Lord Blair flushed.
"Put it so, if you like, sir," he said, thinking what a good thing it was that they did not see much of each other.
"And so lost the chance of restoring your ruined fortunes," said the earl. "Violet's fortune is a large one. I am one of the trustees, and can speak with authority. It is large enough to repair all the mischief your wild, spendthrift course has produced. And you have lost, not only the means of your salvation, but one of the best girls in England. Great Heaven" – he spoke quite quietly – "how can a man be so great a fool, and so blind!"
At another time the young man might have retorted, but he had had a good dinner and two glasses of the wonderful port, and so he only laughed.
"I suppose I am a fool, sir," he said good-temperedly. "Perhaps it's part of my constitution. But don't let us quarrel. It isn't worth while."
"You are right. It isn't worth while," said the earl, sinking back in his chair. "After all, I ought to be thankful that Violet has escaped; but blood is thicker than – water and I have thought of you more than of her. But let it pass. You are bent on following the road you have set out upon, and not even she nor I can stay you. As to Ketton, you refuse to accept my offer – "
"Yes, sir," said Lord Blair, gently but firmly. "I shall mortgage Ketton. I can't take any more money from you. If we were – well, better friends, it would be different, but – It's a pity you can't touch this port! The best wine I ever tasted!"
The earl sat in silence for a few minutes, then he rose.
"Coffee will be served in the drawing-room," he said. "You will excuse me?"
"Oh, certainly," said Lord Blair, jumping up. "I don't care about the coffee, I will go and get a cigar on the terrace. Perhaps I sha'n't see you again, sir, I start early in the morning. If I should not, I'll say good-bye," and he held out his hand.
The earl touched it with his thin white fingers.
"Good-bye," he said, and with a sigh he passed down the corridor to his own apartments.
Lord Blair took out his cigar-case and stepped through the open window on to the terrace.
"Yes, I'm on the road to ruin, as mine uncle says," he mused, "and going along at a rattling good pace, too! Sha'n't be long before I reach the terminus, I expect. Hartwell gone, Parkfield gone, and now Ketton. I'm sorry about Ketton! But I'd rather pawn everything that's left than take any more money from him! Heigho! I wonder whether any of the fellows who are so thick now will cut me when I can't come up on settling day and my name's on the black list! And I could put it all right by marrying Violet Graham. Just by marrying Violet. But I can't do that. I suppose I am a fool, as the old gentleman politely remarked. It's wonderful that I'm the only man he is ever rude