The Talisman Ring

Ludovic gave a delighted crack of laughter, and caught her

hand to his lips. ‘I lied, I lied! I have had one day’s good luck at least, when I met my cousin Eustacie!’

‘Yes, but –’

Sir Tristram said gravely: ‘Of course, if you do not really think it –’

‘No, I do not. In fact, I am beginning quite to like you,’ Eustacie assured him.

‘Thank you,’ said Sir Tristram, much moved.

‘But I thought it would be a very good thing to pretend to Basil that you still wished to marry me, and so, you see, you cannot come to his house with us. I perceive now that it is a pity that I said it, perhaps, but one cannot always look far enough ahead.’

‘On the whole,’ said Shield, ‘I am inclined to think that you did right. I must, after all, have some excuse for visiting this inn often. I will join your party at the Dower House, and you may counterfeit all the disgust you please.’

Miss Thane nodded approvingly. ‘I see! You will arrive upon some Pretext, just in time to rescue Mr Lavenham from my importunities. Eustacie having signified her desire to hold private speech with him, he will hail your arrival with joy. I shall have to be a very stupid sort of a woman, and ask a great many questions. Tell me something to say about his house.’

‘Comment enthusiastically upon the silver-figured oak wainscoting in the dining-room,’ said Sir Tristram.

‘Also the strap-and-jewel work overmantel in the drawing-room,’ struck in Ludovic. ‘Sylvester used to say it was devilish fine; that I do remember.’

‘Strap-and-jewel work,’ repeated Miss Thane, committing it to memory.

‘Dutch influence,’ said Sir Tristram. ‘Detect the school of Torrigiano in the library.’

‘Is it there?’ inquired Ludovic, vaguely interested.

‘Heaven knows. Basil won’t, at any rate. Say that it is a pity the muntins are not covered by pilasters. Talk of cartouches, and caryatids, and scratch-mouldings. Ask for the history of every picture, and discover that the staircase reminds you of one you have seen somewhere else, though you cannot immediately recall where.’

‘Say no more! I see it all!’ declared Miss Thane. ‘Heaven send he does not fob me off on to the housekeeper!’

Fortunately for the success of her plot the Beau’s manners were far too polished to permit of his resorting to this expedient. According to a carefully-laid plan, the two ladies set out upon the following morning in Sir Hugh’s chaise, and drove at a sedate pace to the Dower House, which was situated on the northern side of Lavenham Court, about five miles from Hand Cross. It was a sixteenth-century house of respectable size, approached by a short carriage-sweep. Its gardens, which were separated from the Park by a kind of ha-ha, were laid out with great propriety of taste, and some very fine clipped yews, flanking the oaken front door, at once met with Miss Thane’s approbation.

They were admitted into the house by a town-bred and somewhat supercilious butler, and led through the hall to the drawing-room. This was an elegant apartment, furnished in the first style of fashion, but Miss Thane had no time to waste in admiring what were obviously quite up-to-date chairs and tables. Her attention was fixed anxiously upon the overmantel.

The Beau joined his guests in a very few minutes. If he felt any surprise at a somewhat vague engagement having been kept with such promptness, no trace of it appeared in his countenance. He greeted both ladies with his usual grace, feared they must have been chilled during their drive in such hard weather, and begged them to draw near the fire. Eustacie, whose cheeks were rosy where a nipping east wind had caught them, promptly complied with the suggestion, but Miss Thane was unable to tear herself from the contemplation of the overmantel. She stood well back from it, assuming a devout expression, and breathed: ‘Such exquisite strap-and-jewel-work! You did not tell me you had anything so fine, Mr Lavenham! I declare, I do not know how to take my eyes from it!’

‘I believe it is considered to be a very good example, ma’am,’ the Beau acknowledged. ‘The late Lord Lavenham was used to say it was finer than the one up at the Court, but I am afraid I am not a judge of such things.’

But this Miss Thane would not allow to be true. No protestations that he could make succeeded in shaking her belief that it was his modesty which spoke. She launched forth into a sea of talk, in which Dutch influence, the style of the Renaissance, the inferiority of Flemish craftsmanship, and the singular beauty of the Gothic jostled one another like rudderless boats adrift in a whirlpool. From the overmantel she passed with scarcely a check to the pictures on the walls. She detected a De Hooge with unerring judgment, and was at once reminded of a few weeks spent in the Netherlands some years ago. Her reminiscences, recounted with a vivacious artlessness which made Eustacie stare at her in rapt admiration, were only put an end to by the Beau’s seizing the opportunity afforded by her pausing to take breath to propose that they should step into the dining-parlour for some refreshment.

The Beau opened the door for the ladies to pass out into the hall. Miss Thane went first, still chattering, leaving Eustacie hanging back for a moment, and to say in an urgent undertone to her cousin: ‘We came to-day because I have suddenly thought that perhaps you, who are very much of the world, could advise me. Only, you understand, I do not like to say anything before Sarah, because although she is extremely amiable, she is not, after all, of my family.’

He bowed. ‘I am always at your service, my dear cousin, even though I may be – surprised.’

‘Surprised?’ said Eustacie, with a look of child-like innocence.

‘Well,’ said the Beau softly, ‘you have not been precisely in the habit of seeking either my company or my advice, have you, ma chère ?’

‘Oh!’ said Eustacie, brushing that aside with a flutter of her expressive little hand, ‘quant à ça, when Grandpapa was alive I did not wish for anyone’s advice but his. But I find myself now in a situation of the most awkward.’

He looked at her with narrowed eyes, as though appraising her. ‘Yes, your situation is awkward,’ he said. ‘I could show you how to end that.’

Miss Thane’s voice, requesting him to tell her whether the staircase was original, put an end to all private conversation. He followed Eustacie out into the hall, saying that he believed it was quite original.

Wine and sandwiches had been set out on the table in the dining-parlour. While she ate, and sipped her glass of ratafie, Miss Thane took the opportunity of scrutinizing the wainscoting as closely as she dared. It was in two tiers, as Ludovic had described, the upper being composed of circular cartouches, carved with heads and devices, and separated from the lower by a broad frieze. The lower tier was divided vertically at every third panel by fluted pilasters with carved capitals. The whole was extremely beautiful, but the predominant thought in Miss Thane’s mind was that to find one particular boss, or carved fruit, amongst the wealth on the wall would be an arduous labour.

Her meaningless prattle flowed on; she could not help being diverted by her own idiocies; nor, though she did not like him, could she fail to give the Beau credit for unwearied civility. By the time she had exhibited her commonplace book (in which Sir Tristram had had the forethought to sketch a few rough pictures of totally imaginary horses), and hoped that her host would grant her the indulgence of drawing just a tiny corner of his lovely panelled dining-parlour, her tongue was beginning to cleave to the roof of her mouth, and she heard with feelings of profound relief the ringing of a bell. It was at this moment that the Beau proposed to her the library, in which room the wainscoting, though similar to that in the dining-parlour, was generally held, he believed, to be superior. They passed out into the hall, just as the butler opened the front door to admit Sir Tristram. The first sound that met his ears as he stepped over the threshold was Miss Thane’s voice extolling the style of Torrigiano. A quiver of emotion for an instant disturbed the severity of his expression, but he controlled it immediately, and taking a hasty step forward, addressed Eustacie in outraged tones. ‘I have been to the Red Lion, and was told I should find you here! I do not understand what your purpose can have been in coming, for I particularly requested the favour of an interview with you this morning!’