Cotillion

‘Well, what did you want to start him off for?’ said Freddy reasonably. ‘You might have known he’d catch his own name! That’s all right and tight, Dolph: don’t pay any heed to George! He’s a gudgeon.’

‘If we are to talk of gudgeons,’ countered Biddenden, ‘there is a bigger one in this room even than Dolphinton!’

‘Well, why don’t you sport a little blunt on the chance!’ suggested Freddy. ‘I’ll lay you handsome odds!’

‘The style of this conversation is quite improper,’ interposed the Rector. ‘Unless you are in the expectation of being received by my great-uncle tonight, Freddy, I suggest that we should all of us retire to bed. I will add that while I cannot but deprecate the freedom George uses in discussing such a matter I believe that whatever may be our cousin’s sentiments upon the occasion, my uncle is much chagrined at Jack’s absence from Arnside, and is very likely to wait upon the chance of his making a belated appea

rance tomorrow.’

‘No use doing that,’ replied Freddy. ‘He don’t mean to come.’

‘You are no doubt in his confidence!’

‘No, I ain’t in his confidence, but I’ve seen the nice bit of game he’s been throwing out lures to this month and more,’ said Freddy frankly.

Hugh looked disgusted, and Biddenden curious. Before either of them could speak, however, the door opened, and to the surprise of everyone except Freddy, Miss Charing tripped into the room.

She was still attired in the rather drab gown she had worn earlier in the evening, but she had dignified the occasion by tieing up her locks with a red ribbon. All trace of chagrin had departed from her face, and it was with a beaming smile that she greeted Mr Standen. ‘Freddy, how glad I am to see you!’ she exclaimed, holding out her hand to him. ‘I had quite given you up!’

Mr Standen bowed in his inimitable style over her hand, saying: ‘Beg a thousand pardons! Been out of town! Came as soon as I had read my uncle’s letter.’

Miss Charing appeared to be much affected. ‘You came at once! So late, and—and with the snow falling! Oh, Freddy!’

‘That’s it,’ agreed Freddy. ‘No sense in letting these fellows steal a march on me. Came to beg you to do me the honour of accepting my hand.’

The hand was once more extended to him; Miss Charing said, with a sigh, and modestly downcast eyes: ‘Oh, Freddy, I do not know how to answer you!’

Mr Standen, unprepared for this improvisation, was put out, ‘Dash it, Kit!’ he began.

‘For I had come to believe that I had mistaken your sentiments!’ said Kitty hastily. ‘Now I see that it is not so! You, I am persuaded, would not wish to marry me for the sake of Uncle Matthew’s fortune!’

‘Thing is,’ said Freddy, recognizing his cue, ‘never thought my uncle would permit it. Thought it was useless to approach him. As soon as I read his letter—bespoke a chaise and came at once! Trust you’ll allow me to speak to him in the morning.’

‘Oh, yes, Freddy! It will make me very happy!’ said Kitty soulfully.

Under the bemused stare from three pairs of eyes, Mr Standen, with rare grace, kissed Miss Charing’s hand, and said that he was very much obliged to her.

Five

The approval and the felicitations which a young lady might have expected to have greeted the news of her betrothal to a man of rank and fortune were denied to Miss Charing. Only Lord Dolphinton was pleased; and as it soon became apparent that his pleasure had its root in the realization that not the most exacting parent could expect him to marry a lady already betrothed to another man, his congratulations were not felt to be particularly gratifying.

Lord Biddenden’s chagrin found expression in ejaculatory half-sentences, spoken largely under his breath; and while he was very angry with Freddy, who had snatched at an heiress without the justification of being himself in straitened circumstances, he was also quite as angry with Hugh, for having done so little to make his suit agreeable to Kitty.

Whatever of rage or mortification Hugh felt, he concealed, merely saying to Kitty in a grave tone: ‘I had not thought this of you. I beg you will consider well before you take a step I am persuaded you must regret. I shall say no more. George, I am going to bed. I daresay you too, Foster, are ready to retire.’

But Lord Dolphinton, scenting an ally in his cousin Freddy, was recalcitrant. He said that he need not go to bed at anyone’s bidding; and went so far as to add, in a spirit of great daring, that he was going to drink the happy couple’s healths. As Hugh had dissuaded him, rather earlier in the evening, from pouring himself out a second glass of brandy and water, this announcement was tantamount to a declaration of independence, and frightened Lord Dolphinton quite as much as it surprised all those who knew how much in awe of his clerical cousin he stood. However, the Rector refused the challenge, merely favouring the backslider with a long, reproving look before bidding the company goodnight.

This triumph so much elated Dolphinton that he became loquacious, living over again his victory with such pertinacity that Lord Biddenden was soon driven from the room.

‘Didn’t like it, because I gave Hugh a set-down,’ said Dolphinton, with satisfaction. ‘Silly fellow! Shouldn’t have come here.’

Since his lordship showed every sign of settling down to make a night of it, Freddy, who wished for further guidance from his betrothed, was obliged to exert all his powers of persuasion to induce him to go to bed. But no sooner had he accomplished his design than Miss Fishguard came into the Saloon, agog with sentiment, curiosity, and a determination to chaperon her charge.

Miss Fishguard’s method of entering any room in which she had reason to believe that a tête-à-tête was taking place, was first to peep round the door with an arch smile, saying: ‘Do I intrude?’ and then, without awaiting an answer, to trip across the floor on tiptoe, as though she feared to disturb a sick person. The habit arose partly from timidity, and partly from a resolve never to presume upon her position; and it never failed to irritate her employers. However, as Kitty was well aware, from Miss Fishguard’s fund of reminiscence, of the slights and snubs which were a governess’s portion, she creditably hid her annoyance, summoned up a welcoming smile, and announced her engagement.

Since the news had spread rapidly through the household that the Honourable Freddy had arrived at a dissipated hour of the night, demanding Miss Charing, and that Miss had risen from her bed, dressed herself, and gone down to the Saloon immediately, the announcement was not quite unexpected. Miss Fishguard, however, greeted it with upflung hands, and ecstatic exclamations. Mr Standen’s tardy arrival and successful suit seemed to her so romantic that, inspiration failing, she was obliged to quote the words of one of her favourite poets. Twittering with excitement, as she dropped a curtsy to Freddy, she uttered: ‘Oh, Mr Frederick! It reminds one so! “He staid not for brake, and he stopp’d not for stone, He swam the Eske river where ford there was none!”’

‘Eh?’ said Freddy, startled.