April Lady

‘Who said I meant to do so?’ retorted his lordship. ‘All I said was – But it ain’t to the purpose! It’s a pity tonight’s affair came to nothing, but I shall come about. And I’ll thank you not to start meddling!’ he added, in a very ungallant way.

‘I have not the remotest intention of meddling!’ said Letty, rigid with wrath.

‘Well, see you don’t!’ recommended Dysart. ‘And don’t go blabbing either!’

These ungentlemanly words brought to an abrupt end the excellent understanding which had seemed to be flourishing between them. Letty, in freezing accents, requested his lordship to restore her to her chaperon, and his lordship did so with unflattering alacrity. Finding that Nell was attended by a great many of her friends he did not feel that it behoved him to remain at her side, but went off to amuse himself in his own way. Since he was, regrettably, one of those dashing blades who could not be trusted to keep the line at a masquerade he managed to do this tolerably well by flirting outrageously with any lady obliging enough to enc

ourage him. By the time that had palled he had been so fortunate as to have rubbed against a crony, in whose company, and that of several other bucks of the first head, he spent the remainder of the evening, rejoining his sister finally in very merry pin. He was not precisely castaway (as he would himself have phrased it), and only a high stickler could have found anything to object to in the affable, not to say rollicking, mood engendered by champagne punch; but it was evident that he had temporarily banished care, and could not be expected to bend his mind to the solving of Nell’s difficulties. Instead, he entertained the ladies during the drive back to town with snatches of song, delivered in a fine, forceful baritone.

Five

In spite of the absence from it of Mr Allandale Letty had much enjoyed the masquerade. Like the Viscount, she had indulged in a good deal of flirtation, allowing her vivacity to carry her to lengths only possible under the disguise of a mask and domino; she had received a great many audacious compliments; and her spangled gown had been much admired. Her giddiness added nothing to Nell’s comfort, but she was powerless to check the liveliness that several times put her to the blush. A gentle admonition was met merely with a laugh, and a toss of the head; and when she ventured to say: ‘Letty, if you won’t keep a proper distance for your own sake, do so for mine, I beg of you!’ her wilful sister-in-law replied: ‘Oh, fudge! You place yourself on too high a form! There’s no harm in romping a trifle at a masquerade: everyone does so! It is all just fun and gig!’

‘It is unbecoming,’ Nell said. ‘Bath miss manners! You wouldn’t behave with so little particularity if Mr Allandale were here!’

‘Dear Jeremy! No, indeed! I should flirt with him instead. But he is not here, and I’ve no notion of being moped and die-away at such an agreeable party, I can tell you. I think we are having a splendid night’s raking, don’t you?’

It was useless to persist; useless too to hope that Letty would not be recognized. At midnight there would be a general unmasking, when disapproving eyes would see that the fast girl in the shimmering domino and the spangled gown was none other than Cardross’s little half-sister. Youth and a naturally volatile disposition led Letty, carried away by excitement, into behaviour that was beyond the line of being pleasing. The evils of her former situation in her aunt’s house were never more clearly shown: she had neither precept nor example to guide her, her aunt being both indolent and shatterbrained, and her cousins over-bold young women with nothing in their heads but finery and dalliance.

Having perceived Lady Chudleigh amongst the gathering of unmasked chaperons, Nell braced herself to meet the inevitable strictures which she did not doubt her husband’s most formidable aunt would feel it her duty to address to her. In the event, however, Lady Chudleigh was surprisingly gracious. She certainly condemned the spangled dress, and was thankful that she had no cause to blush for her own daughter, but she said that she did not blame Nell for Letty’s want of conduct. ‘It is much to be regretted that Letitia does not take a lesson from you, my dear Helen,’ she said majestically. ‘I shall not deny that I have been used to think that Cardross made a great mistake when he chose to offer for you. I always speak my mind, and I told him at the time that he would do better to ally himself to a female nearer in age to himself. But I must own, and do not hesitate to do so, that I have been agreeably surprised in you. It is a sad pity that Letitia has neither your discretion nor your good taste.’

With these measured words of approval she moved on, which was just as well, since Nell could think of nothing whatsoever to say in reply to them. Her daughter, a rather angular girl, unkindly described by her cousin Felix as an antidote, lingered to exclaim: ‘Only fancy Mama’s saying that to you! She does not often praise people, I can tell you, Cousin Helen!’

The congratulatory tone in which this was uttered was a little too much for Nell. She said tartly: ‘I am sure I ought to be very much obliged to her!’

‘I knew you must feel it so. Do you know, she said to me yesterday that you were a very pretty-behaved young woman? There!’

‘Did she indeed? Well, don’t repeat any more of her compliments, for they might puff me up too much in my own conceit!’

Miss Chudleigh tittered. ‘That is precisely what Mama said! At least, I mean she said that it was a wonder your head was not turned by all the compliments you receive. But I quite expected her to censure you for permitting Letty to wear such an improper gown. I can’t think how she can do so without blushing. I could not!’

‘No, and I must own that I think you would be very unwise to attempt anything in the same style,’ instantly retorted the pretty-behaved Lady Cardross. ‘But Letty, you know, has so perfect a figure that she can carry off anything! For my part, I never saw her in greater beauty!’

‘And I hope she told her detestable mother!’ Nell said, when later recounting this exchange to Letty.

‘Well!’ said Letty, giggling. ‘What a bouncer! When you took one look at my dress, and said you had never seen anything so improper!’

‘Yes, but I didn’t say it was not becoming! And in any event it was a great piece of impertinence for Miriam to criticize you. Or for Lady Chudleigh to do so either, for now I come to think of it she is not your aunt, but only Giles’s!’

‘Dear Nell!’ gurgled Letty.

Nell submitted to an enthusiastic embrace, but said, in rather a conscience-stricken tone: ‘But I must tell you, Letty, that I agreed with every word they said! It is a shocking dress, and don’t say you didn’t damp your petticoat, for I know you did! Nothing else could have made it cling so! What Cardross must have said, had he seen it –’

‘You sound just like a governess!’

‘So I do!’ Nell said, much struck, and looking quite aghast. ‘Oh, what an odious girl you are, Letty, to put me to that necessity! You make me feel like a governess!’

‘I did not purchase a lace gown for more than three hundred guineas,’ said Letty, folding her hands, and gazing piously at the ceiling. ‘I am not in a quake lest my husband should discover it!’

Quite confounded, poor Nell remained speechless for several moments. She made a gallant recovery. ‘No, you bought a dressing-case for five hundred pounds, didn’t you? And you are not in debt because Cardross sent it back! And least that has not happened to me!’

‘I hoped you wouldn’t remember that,’ said Letty candidly. ‘Oh, Nell, it has put a famous notion into my head! Send the gown back to Lavalle! You may say that it is not in the least what you wanted, and doesn’t become you!’

‘Well, if that is your famous notion I never heard anything so unscrupulous in my life!’ gasped Nell. ‘Besides, I tore it a little at Carlton House that night, and Lavalle would instantly see where Sutton darned it!’

‘What a pity! There is nothing for it, then, but to order another dress from the horrid creature,’ said Letty, unconsciously echoing Dysart. ‘That is what my aunt does when her dressmaker duns her. And if you keep on sending it back, saying it does not fit, or that you prefer a floss trimming instead of lace, or some such thing, it won’t be finished until the quarter, and then you may pay for both the gowns! Why, in less than two months it will be quarter-day, and you will find yourself in funds again! I see no difficulty.’

The suggestion found no favour with Nell, but since Madame Lavalle had followed up her bill with a polite letter, drawing my lady’s attention to it, and trusting that my lady would find it convenient to defray it within the immediate future, she felt her case to be desperate, and resolved on a course which, disagreeable though it might be, seemed to hold out more promise of success than any scheme Dysart was likely to evolve. She would pay Madame Lavalle a visit, not to bespeak another expensive dress, but to explain with what dignity she could muster that although it was not at all convenient to her to pay the account in the immediate future she would faithfully do so at the end of the following month. That this would dig an uncomfortab