Frederica

And why the devil should I shoulder them? the Marquis demanded of himself. I must have windmills in my head!

Sixteen

If Harry was doubtful of the Marquis, he found no difficulty at all in deciding that the Marquis’s cousin and heir was a capital fellow. The young gentlemen, in fact, took to one another on sight; and this in spite of the slight prejudice created in Harry’s mind by the knowledge that Frederica did not look with favour upon Mr Dauntry. Endymion was not much given to speculation, but had he thought about the matter he would have felt sure that he would like Harry – or any other of Charis’s relations. He was some few years older than Harry, and he had all the town-bronze which Harry lacked; but his intellect was not strong, and, like many other persons of slow wit to whom learning was a painful labour, he was inclined to regard with respect bordering upon awe anyone capable of passing Responsions.

It might have been supposed that disparity of age and of intelligence would have raised a barrier between the two gentlemen. Frederica did suppose it, but she had reckoned without one powerful factor: each was sporting-mad. A chance word revealed to Harry that this seeming-sapskull was a Melton man, and, from his description of the Shires, an accomplished horseman. Not that Endymion, a modest young man, boasted of his prowess: the only personal anecdotes he recounted were of having been bullfinched at a regular stitcher at Barkby Holt, and of having once taken a toss into the Whissendine; but you could tell, thought Harry, quick to realise that Endymion laid the blame for these mishaps not upon his horse but upon himself, that however blockish he might be in a drawing-room he was a first-rate man in the saddle. From hunting it was a short step to almost every form of sport; and by the time the superiority of Manton’s New Patent Shot had been discussed, the advantages of a Six or Seven over a heavier shot argued, and the fights each gentleman had had with various salmon of stupendous size, described in exhaustive detail, it would have been hard to have decided which held the other in the higher esteem.

Frederica might be exasperated by Endymion’s easy conquest of her volatile brother, but Charis, listening to their exchanges with a glowing look of gratification in her beautiful eyes, was encouraged, when she found herself alone with Harry, to say imploringly: ‘You do like him, Harry, don’t you?’ Blushing, she added: ‘Our cousin, I mean – Mr Dauntry!’

‘Oh, him!’ said Harry. ‘Yes, a first-rate man! Bang up to the knocker, too, I should think!’

‘And so very handsome, don’t you think?’ she suggested shyly.

Since this was not a matter which had previously excited Harry’s attention, he was obliged to consider it for a moment, before replying: ‘Yes, I suppose he is. Too big, though: I shouldn’t wonder at it if he rides as much as sixteen stone, poor fellow! Ay, and what’s more he might strip well, but you may depend upon it that it would be bellows to mend with him in the ring! All the same, these big, heavy men: too slow by half!’

Slightly daunted by these strictures, Charis said: ‘But so very amiable – so truly the gentleman!’

He agreed to this, but added a rider. ‘Not much in his knowledge-box, mind you! In fact, if we hadn’t got to talking about hunting I should have said he was a regular chawbacon!’

‘He is not!’

‘I know that. He knows the devil of a lot about horses, and –’ He broke off, suddenly struck by her unusual vehemence. ‘You don’t mean to tell me you’re in love again?’ he exclaimed.

‘No! for I was never in love before! Never!’

‘Not in love before – ! Why, what about –’

‘No!’ she reiterated. ‘I didn’t know! I didn’t understand! This is different – quite, quite different!’

‘Well,’ said Harry sceptically, ‘if you weren’t in love with any of the cawkers who made such dashed cakes of themselves about you, all I can say is that you’re a desperate flirt! Why, you never even hinted them away!’

Tears sprang to her eyes; she uttered in a stricken voice: ‘Oh, Harry, no! Not a flirt! It was only that they were all such particular friends! How could I be unkind to anyone I’ve known all my life? And if you are thinking of poor Mr Griff, I promise you I didn’t give him the least encouragement!’

‘Or the least set-down!’ said Harry.

‘But, dearest, only think how – how brutal it would have been! He was so dreadfully humble, and he had so much sensibility! I couldn’t wound him so!’

‘There wasn’t anything very humble about the Jack-at-warts Tom Rushbury brought home with him last year! The coxcomb who had the infernal impudence to come serenading you, and woke us all up with his damned caterwauling!’

‘Oh, Harry!’ she said reproachfully. ‘You know he had a very fine voice! Yes, and you know I didn’t like him, and was only kind to him because you were so uncivil as to empty a jug of water over him, and pretend you thought he was a cat! I own, I have once or twice fancied I might be in love, but I know now that I quite mistook the matter. I never loved any of them as I love my dear, dear Endymion, and I never shall!’

‘Yes, you will,’ said Harry, in a bracing tone. ‘Well, you know what you are, Charis! You’ll have a tendre for some other fellow next week, I daresay!’

Her tears spilled over; she turned her face away, saying sadly: ‘I had hoped that you would understand!’

‘For the lord’s sake, don’t get ticklish!’ begged Harry, observing with apprehension these signs of distress. ‘What the deuce is there to cry about? It ain’t as if Dauntry weren’t nutty on you! Frederica told me he was – not that she need have done so! – any jobbernoll could see that!’

‘Frederica doesn’t like him,’ said Charis, on a sob.

‘Well, what has that to say to anything? It’s my belief she don’t know you’ve formed a – a lasting passion for him! Why the devil don’t you tell her? Good God, you surely ain’t afraid of her?’

‘Oh, no, no, no!’ declared Charis. ‘But she wouldn’t believe me, Harry, any more than you do! It’s all so dreadful! It was on my account we came to London, because Frederica was set on establishing me c-comfortably! I know she doesn’t think I should be comfortable with Endymion, and should f-forget him in a sennight if I didn’t see him again! And she has pinched, and saved, and c-contrived all for my sake! How could I be so ungrateful as to –’

‘Fudge!’ interrupted Harry, with strong commonsense. ‘I’ll tell you what, Charis: if you don’t stop trying to do what everybody wants, you’ll find yourself in the suds! Besides, Frederica is a dashed sight too fond of you to drive a spoke in your wheel, even if she could!’

‘But she could, Harry! Oh, she would never, never do so if she didn’t believe I should regret it, if I m-married my adored Endymion! But that’s just what she does believe! I know she thinks that she need not care for his visiting us, because I shall grow tired of him!’

Since Harry knew this too, and was much inclined to agree with Frederica, he could find nothing better to say than: ‘Oh, well! No sense in getting into the hips! If – I mean, when she sees that you really have fixed your interest, she’ll come about!’