Cotillion

After this exchange, Freddy passed into the ballroom, and paused on the threshold, looking about him for his sister.

‘Why, there is Freddy Standen!’ exclaimed a bedizened matron. ‘I did not know he was in town again. Dear creature!’

She waggled a hand in a tight kid glove, but failed to attract his attention, this being claimed at the moment by a voice at his elbow.

‘Hallo, my Tulip! Didn’t you ruralize after all?’

The voice was full of lazy amusement, and it made Freddy turn quickly. It belonged to a tall man whose air and bearing proclaimed the Corinthian. Coat, neckcloth, fobs, seals, and quizzing-glass, all belonged to the Dandy; but the shoulders setting off the coat so admirably, and the powerful thighs, hidden by satin knee-breeches, betrayed the Blood, the out-and-outer not to be beaten on any sporting suit. The face above the starched shirt-points was a handsome one, with a mouth as mocking as its owner’s voice, and a pair of intensely blue eyes which laughed into Freddy’s. The sight of them might have caused Miss Charing’s heart to flutter, but they awoke in Mr Standen quite different emotions. He opened his mouth to give utterance to a few of the sentiments which had been festering in his bosom for two days, and recollected with a sense of bitter frustration that he was pledged to utter none of them. He shut his mouth again, swallowed, and said merely: ‘Oh, hallo! You here, coz?’

‘Yes, Freddy, yes: I am here, not my wraith! But what are you doing here? I thought to have heard of you at Arnside!’

‘Got back today,’ said Freddy.

Mr Westruther’s eyes quizzed him maddeningly. ‘What a short stay, coz! Didn’t they make you welcome?’

Freddy had always rather admired and looked up to his splendid cousin, but he was not going to put up with this sort of thing. He replied, after only a moment’s rapid consideration: ‘Oh, toll-loll, but it’s a devilish uncomfortable house, and the old gentleman don’t like me to take my man there. Besides, no need to stay longer!’

‘No?’ said Mr Westruther, amusement quivering in his voice.

It was seldom that Mr Standen, a peace-loving young gentleman, was conscious of a wish to come to blows with his fellow-men, but a wistful desire to land his cousin a facer did for an instant flicker in his mind. Several circumstances rendered the gratification of this impulse ineligible, chief amongst them being the hallowed precincts in which they both stood, and the melancholy certainty that such violence could only lead to his own discomfiture. So instead of yielding to brutish instincts, he fell back upon finesse. Opening his snuff-box, he offered it to Jack, saying meditatively: ‘Queer start! Thought you were bamming me, and dashed nearly didn’t go. Daresay you didn’t know it, but the old gentleman’s going to leave his fortune to Kit, provided she marries one of us.’

Mr Westruther helped himself to a pinch from the elegant gold box. ‘Some hint of this, I must own, coz, had reached my ears,’ he said gravely.

‘Surprised you didn’t go to Arnside, then,’ said Freddy.

Mr Westruther raised his brows. ‘But what made you think me a gazetted fortune-hunter, Freddy?’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that!’ said Freddy vaguely. ‘Daresay people took it for granted you and Kit would make a match of it. Thought myself the old gentleman meant to leave the blunt to you. Well, you did too, didn’t you? Been living on the expectancy for years!’

Mr Westruther said appreciatively: ‘Well done, Freddy! A hit! I didn’t go to Arnside because I have the oddest dislike of having my hand forced. Our revered great-uncle’s whims are not unamusing, but this one goes beyond the line of what may be tolerated. When I go into wedded shackles it will be in my own time, and in my own fashion.’

‘Good notion—if the thing comes off right,’ agreed Freddy. ‘Trouble is, can’t be sure it will!’

His cousin laughed. ‘I’ll take my chance of that!’

Freddy was well aware of Mr Westruther’s many conquests. While he was far from understanding why nine females out of ten were so foolish as to fall in love with one who, if not a downright rake, was certainly the most accomplished flirt in town, this was not a question which had previously exercised his mind. Tonight, for the first time, he was nettled by Jack’s assurance; and instead of thinking that it was rather cork-brained of Kitty to hoax Jack, along with all the rest, he suddenly realized that had he been free to tell the truth he would not have done it. Time Jack had a set-down! A certain suspicion beginning to take shape in his mind, he said: ‘Wish you good fortune! Glad I met you tonight: wanted to tell you! Devilish grateful to you, coz! Never thought there was any chance for me in that quarter: shouldn’t have gone to Arnside if you hadn’t given me a nudge!’

If he had hoped to have confounded his cousin, he was disappointed. There was certainly an arrested look in Mr Westruther’s face, but he only cocked an eyebrow, and said: ‘Can it be that I am to wish you happy?’

‘That’s it,’ replied Freddy. ‘Mind, we ain’t puffing it off yet, because the old gentleman don’t like it above half, but it’s known in the family.’

He had the satisfaction of seeing Mr Westruther’s brows snap together, and the laugh quite fade from his eyes; but it was only for a second. The frown vanished as swiftly as it had appeared; Mr Westruther grinned at him, and said: ‘No, Freddy, no! Doing it too brown!’

‘Ain’t doing it brown at all,’ said Freddy stolidly. ‘Dolph, Hugh, and I all offered for Kit. Accepted me. Well, I knew she would!’

‘What?’

‘Dash it, Jack!’ said Freddy, stung. ‘Any girl would rather marry me than Dolph or Hugh! No use saying Dolph’s an Earl: he’s run off his legs, besides being dicked in the nob! And as for Hugh—lord!’

‘Just so,’ concurred his cousin. ‘But, Freddy—but—! I still say that you are doing it too brown! I will allow that Kitty might prefer you to Dolph or Hugh, but I’m not such a green ’un that I will swallow this hum that you—you, sweet coz!—offered your hand and heart to Kitty Charing! It conjures up an enchanting picture, but no, Freddy, no!’

Freddy toyed with the idea of presenting Mr Westruther with another picture, that of a long-standing but secret attachment, sketched by Miss Charing’s reckless hand. Something told him that it would not be accepted; and he said instead: ‘Thought you’d be surprised. Fact is, been thinking for some time I ought to be married. Eldest son, you know: duty!’

‘And your father so stricken in years besides!’ said Mr Westruther helpfully.

‘No,’ said Freddy. ‘he ain’t stricken in years, but they’ve got measles in the house. No saying what might happen.’

This flight into the realms of fancy was too much for Mr Westruther. ‘Enough!’ he said. ‘This bubble was pricked before it was fully blown, coz. I hope you mean to regale me with the true story of what happened at Arnside. Did Dolph and Hugh indeed offer for Kitty?’