Frederica

‘Yes – didn’t I tell you? Curry brought me a letter from the receiving-office this morning. He writes that he can come post, and be in London again in time to dine with Charis. He would have come immediately, you know, if Jessamy had not dissuaded him, which was very right. It could only have overset him to have seen Felix then, and there was nothing he could have done, because he is very rarely ill himself, and hasn’t a notion of what to do for sick persons. But naturally he is anxious to come now, and I shall tell him he may do so, but must not allow Charis to accompany him. I am sorry for it, and should dearly love to see her, but we cannot have her sick on our hands as well!’

‘Certainly not!’ Alverstoke said, startled. ‘Er – should we?’

‘Well, quite out of sorts for a day or two, at all events. On account of the post-chaise,’ she explained. ‘You know what those yellow bounders are! She would be queasy before ever they reached Edgware.’

His lordship, recognising that it was still not the moment to make a declaration, very wisely refrained, and, as they wended their way back to the farm, talked to her on indifferent subjects.

Harry, who arrived in due course, bringing with him a supply of Dr Ratcliffe’s Restorative Pork Jelly, was quite unmanned at the sight of Felix, so thin and white, and so languid; and it needed the united endeavours of Frederica and Alverstoke to convince him that the boy was not lying at death’s door. He was inclined to think that Frederica took too lighthearted a view of the case, and was so insistent that a London practitioner should be sent for – even saying that he, and not she, was the poor little fellow’s guardian – that Alverstoke was impelled to come to her rescue, drawing him apart, and explaining to him, with wonderful patience, why it would be both unnecessary and inadvisable to call in another doctor at this stage. Harry did not look to be perfectly satisfied, but he brightened when Alverstoke suggested that if Felix did not pluck up as fast as he should, when he was carried home, Harry should certainly consult a London physician.

To see Felix had not been Harry’s only reason for posting down to Monk’s Farm: he wished to discharge his debt to the Marquis. ‘You have been put to a great deal of expense, sir, and I am much obliged to you for acting on my behalf,’ he said punctiliously. ‘I should like, if it is convenient to you, to give you a draft on my bank.’

There was a mulish look about his mouth, and the hint of a challenge in his eyes, but the Marquis, who had foreseen the demand, took the wind out of his sails by responding affably: ‘Oh, perfectly! I’ll hand you the reckoning when I return to London. Do you want it in detail, or will a Dutch one suffice?’

‘No, no, of course I don’t want it in detail, sir!’ Harry exclaimed, ludicrously disconcerted. ‘I only meant – that is to say, you won’t forget, will you?’

‘If I do, you must remind me,’ said the Marquis.

With this Harry had to be content; but he took care to tell Frederica that she must instruct Dr Elcot not to present his bill to Alverstoke. ‘I’ve brought you a roll of flimsies,’ he said, ‘and if you should need any more of the ready, mind you write to me for it, for I won’t have Alverstoke standing the nonsense! A pretty fellow I should be not to look after my own brothers and sisters!’

She agreed, but said: ‘I wish you had not been obliged to – and you ought not!’

‘Gammon!’

‘No, it’s the truth. I should be more beforehand with the world. I thought, you know, that Graynard would have paid for everything, but living in London, and going to so many ton-parties, has cost much more than I was prepared for.’

‘Oh, pooh! Who cares?’

‘I do – indeed, I am dreadfully mortified! I never meant to be a charge on you, Harry! I shall pay it back to you, but I fear I may be forced to draw on you.’

‘Freddy, will you stop talking such flummery? Anyone would suppose I was on the rocks!’

‘No, I know it’s not as bad as that, but I’m very sure it isn’t high tide with you. I daresay you may have debts, too.’

‘Nothing to signify!’ he said, with a betraying flush. ‘You needn’t worry your head over that! As for your expenses, I can always raise the wind, you know: Salcombe will manage it for me.’

‘Do you mean, sell you out of the Funds? No, that he shan’t!’

‘Oh, you may depend upon it Salcombe will know of some other way! What’s the figure?’

‘My dear, I’m not yet on the rocks either! I was looking ahead – merely warning you that I might be obliged to demand your assistance! The thing is that I must not keep Felix in London, and I hired the house there for six months. I thought we might have stayed there during the summer, living very economically, which we could well do, when the season is over. But I have been talking to Dr Elcot, and he advises me to take Felix out of town until he is perfectly recovered. The racket and all the excitements of London won’t do for him: I shall have to take the greatest care of him, you see, not letting him tax his strength. He is going on very prosperously, but rheumatic fever, as we know, can sometimes leave certain weaknesses behind it.’

‘Mama!’ he exclaimed. ‘Good God, Freddy, he must and shall be seen by a London doctor! One who is bang up to the hub!’

‘Yes, that’s what I feel, too. Indeed, Dr Elcot has himself recommended me to do so, before I leave London. So we will ask Sir William Knighton to call in Upper Wimpole Street as soon as Felix is well enough to travel, which won’t, I hope, be long now – particularly in Alverstoke’s ca

rriage, which is the most luxurious one I ever was in! And then, if Sir William approves the scheme, I mean to remove to some quiet, unfashionable place – perhaps by the sea? Only I must take Charis and Jessamy as well, of course, and I am afraid it may cost a good deal, even if we can find a cheap lodging. Harry, will you discover which of the seaside resorts would be the best, and go there to find an eligible lodging-house for us? Or hire a furnished house, if you think none of the lodgings suitable?’

But this Harry did not feel himself competent to do. He thought it would be better for Frederica to choose the lodgings herself, handsomely offering to escort her on this exploratory trip.

She did not press the matter, reflecting that it might indeed be unwise, not to say foolhardy, to leave the choice of lodgings to his uninstructed judgment. She asked him instead for news of Charis. He said she was not to tease herself, for Charis was going on tolerably well; but he admitted that her spirits were not high. She was wearing black gloves, of course, and had excused herself from attending any of the parties to which she and Frederica had been invited. No: he did not think she was moped precisely; and as for being lonely, much cause there was for that! Lord, the knocker was never still! Which reminded him that he had meant to ask her who the devil was the queer touch who was for ever on the doorstep, enquiring after Felix, handing Buddle flowers and billets for Charis, and in general making a curst cake of himself? A regular counter-coxcomb: Nutley, or some such name.

‘Oh, dear! Our neighbour,’ said Frederica despairingly. ‘A very respectable young man, but – but encroaching! Not that I altogether blame him, because I know very well that Charis – not in the least meaning to do so, but because she is such a soft-hearted goose – did encourage him! I have tried to hint him away –’

‘Well, I’ve done more than that!’ interrupted Harry callously. ‘What a jackstraw to be making up to a sister of mine! When it came to his saying that he wished to serve her in this time of affliction – such impudence! – I told him to his head that she needed no services from him, or from anyone other than myself! Which put him in the bag, I’m happy to say!’

‘Poor Mr Nutley! And Mr Navenby? Has he called?’

‘Oh, yes! Brought his mother with him. She was much inclined to laugh at the affair, but he wasn’t! He didn’t seem able to believe it at first, and then he sat staring. It was all in the papers, you know – not very much, thank the lord, but enough!’