The Quiet Gentleman

‘I think,’ said Mrs Morville, ‘that if she were to remain quietly on the sofa for a little while it would perhaps be best.’

‘Ay, that’s it,’ agreed the doctor, packing his bag again. ‘I have given her something which will make her very soon feel more the thing. No need for alarm, ma’am!’

At this moment, the Viscount walked into the Castle, and, perceiving that a large number of persons were gathered in the Great Hall, very naturally joined the party. He was much surprised to learn that Miss Morville had fallen downstairs, exclaiming, sympathizing, and asking so many questions that Mrs Morville was provoked into telling him that what her daughter needed most was quiet.

‘Ay, I’ll be bound she does!’ said the Viscount, with ready understanding. ‘Head aching fit to split, eh, Miss Morville? Don’t I know it! Took a nasty toss myself once – forget the name of the place: somewhere near Tarbes, it was. Head didn’t stop aching for three days.’

‘Well, I’ll come and see you again tomorrow, Miss Morville!’ said Dr Malpas bracingly. ‘I know I leave you in good hands.’

‘Yes, and so many of them!’ said Mrs Morville, with a bright smile.

The doctor then went away, and Lord Ulverston, looking round the Hall, suddenly demanded: ‘But where’s Ger? Not still abed, is he?’

‘No, my lord,’ said Turvey. ‘His lordship is not, so far as I am aware, within the Castle.’

‘What’s that?’ said Ulverston. ‘He was feeling his wound – said he would rest!’

Miss Morville opened her eyes. ‘He went to Evesleigh,’ she said.

‘Evesleigh! Good God, why?’

The Dowager, who had been regaling the unwilling Mr Morville with a long, and apparently pointless, anecdote about a set of persons whom he had neither met nor wished to meet, broke off to explain that if her son-in-law had gone to Evesleigh, it was to visit his cousin.

‘I know that, ma’am!’ said the Viscount impatiently. ‘How came you to let him go, Miss Morville? What can have possessed him to undertake the journey? He will be quite knocked up! Who accompanied him? That young groom of his?’

‘No. I think –’ Miss Morville stopped. ‘I don’t know!’ she ended uncommunicatively.

He looked down at her rather narrowly. ‘Know why he went, ma’am?’

‘I – No.’

‘Well, it sounds a havey-cavey business to me!’ he said. He glanced round again, frowning. ‘Martin not home yet?’

‘No,’ she said, and resolutely closed her lips.

‘Late, ain’t he?’

She was silent.

‘Think I’ll ride to meet Ger!’ said the Viscount.

‘A very excellent idea!’ said Mrs Morville warmly. ‘If I were you, I would go at once!’

‘I will!’ said the Viscount, and strode off without ceremony.

He reached the head of the terrace steps in time to see the Earl’s curricle come sweeping through the vaulted arch of the Gate-tower. The grays were being driven at a spanking pace, and the Viscount was thunderstruck to perceive that it was Martin who held the reins. He was still standing staring incredulously when the curricle drew up at the foot of the steps, and Martin, whose new-found humility had not deterred him from arguing hotly with his brother on certain of the finer points of driving, said triumphantly: ‘Now own I have not overturned you!’

‘Oh, I do! How thankful I am I didn’t bring a high-perch phaeton into Lincolnshire!’ said the Earl, preparing to alight.

Martin grinned, but merely said that he would drive the curricle to the stables. The Viscount ran down the steps, exclaiming wrathfully: ‘I’ll teach you to hoax me, Ger! What the devil have you been about?’

‘Minding my own business,’ replied Gervase, with one of his mischievous looks.

The Viscount helped him to descend from the curricle. ‘You deserve to be laid-up for a week! Let me tell you, I was just about to come in search of you!’

‘Unnecessary, Lucy! Martin was before you, and, as you see, has driven me home. I am not in the least knocked-up, I assure you.’

‘Just as well!’ said the Viscount. ‘There’s another on the sick-list now!’