General Bounce Part 5

Meanwhile the eventful Friday has arrived which has promoted "Cousin Charlie" to the rank of manhood. The _Gazette_ of that day has announced the appointment of "Charles Kettering, Gentleman, to be Cornet in the 20th Lancers, vice Slack, who retires," and the young one, who has been cultivating the down on his upper lip for months, in antic.i.p.ation of this triumph, turns up those ends, of which there is scarcely enough to take hold, and revels in the consciousness that he is a boy no longer, but an officer, a cavalry officer, and a gentleman. Old n.o.bottle, whom the pupil has attached to himself as an imaginative boy often does a sober old gentleman, is of the same mind, and has confided to Mr. Hardingstone his opinion of Charlie, and the bright deeds he expects from him. "The lad has all the makings of a soldier, sir," said the clergyman; "the cheerful spirits, the gallant bearing, the love of action, and the chivalrous vanity--half courageous, half c.o.xcombical--which form the military character; and if he has a chance, he will distinguish himself. _If_ he has a chance, do I say? he'll make himself a chance, sir; the boy is cut out for a recruit, and he'll learn his drill and know his men, and keep his troop-accounts smarter than any of 'em." n.o.bottle was waxing enthusiastic, as the old recollections stole over him, and he saw, in fancy, a certain young artillery officer, gay amongst the gayest, and brave amongst the bravest, consulted by his seniors for his science and professional knowledge, and thanked in general orders for "his distinguished gallantry" in more than one decisive action. How different from the slouching, slovenly old man, in yesterday's white neckcloth, who may now be seen budding his roses, poking about his parish, and stuffing stupid young gentlemen with as much learning as shall enable them to pa.s.s their dreaded examinations. Poor old n.o.bottle, you _would_ marry for love, you _would_ sacrifice your profession and your commission, your prospects and your all, for the red-nosed lady, then, to do her justice, a very pretty girl, who now occupies the top of your table. Like Antony, you were "all for love and the world well lost," and, after a time, you found that the exchange was against you: what you took for gold turned out to be dross,--that which was honey in the mouth became bitter as gall in the digestion; in short, you discovered Mrs. N. was a failure, and that you did not care two pins for each other. Then came poverty and recrimination and the gnawing remorse of chances thrown away, that could not possibly recur again. Fortunately for you, a cla.s.sical education and Church interest enabled you to take orders and get a living, so you work on, contentedly enough, now that your sensations are deadened and yourself half torpid; and although, when your better feelings obtain the mastery, you cannot but acknowledge the superiority of the present warfare in which you are engaged over that in which you spent your gaudy youth, yet, ever and anon, that foolish old heart still pines for the marshalling of men and the tramp of steeds, "the plumed troop and the big wars, that make ambition virtue."

Hardingstone breakfasted at the rectory on the morning of Charlie's departure; he was to drive him to the station, and our young friend must indubitably have been late for the train, had he not been rescued, by a man of decision, from the prolonged farewells of the inconsolables he left behind. Binks, the butler, was overwhelmed by sorrow and strong beer; Tim, the tea-boy, who had never before seen a half-sovereign, sobbed aloud; the maids, on whom Charlie's good looks had made an impression proportionable to the softness of each damsel's heart, laughed and wept by turns; whilst Mrs. n.o.bottle, generally a lady of austere and inflexible disposition, weakened the very tea which she was pouring out for breakfast with her tears, and, finally, embraced Charlie with hysterical affection, and a nose redder than ever. The good rector took him aside into his study, and blessed him as a father blesses a son. "You have never given me a moment's uneasiness, my dear boy, since you came here," said the old man, with a trembling voice; "you have been a credit to me as a pupil, and a comfort as a friend; and now, perhaps, I shall never see you again.

But you won't forget your old pedagogue, and if ever you are in difficulties, if ever you are in distress, remember there is a home here to which you may always apply for advice and a.s.sistance. G.o.d be with you, my boy, in the temptations of a barrack, as, if it should be your lot, in the perilous excitement of a battle. Do your duty wherever you are, and think, sometimes, of old n.o.bottle."

Why was it Charlie's cigar would _not_ light, as he was borne away on the wheels of Frank Hardingstone's dog-cart? The tinder was quite wet, though there was not a drop of rain in the sky, and he turned away his head from his companion, and bent sedulously over the refractory tobacco. Could it be that Charlie was crying? 'Tis not improbable. Despite his recently-acquired manhood, he had a soft, affectionate heart, and if it now gave way, and came unbidden to his eyes, Frank liked him all the better for it.

And as he was whirled along on the London and North-Western, how the young soldier's thoughts ran riot in the future. Would he have changed places with any dignitary in the world, monarch, prince, or peer, or even with the heretofore much-admired Frank Hardingstone? Not he. None of these held a commission in the 20th Lancers; and were to be pitied, if not despised, accordingly. What a lot was his! Two months' leave at least, and at his time of life two months is an age, to be spent in the gaieties of Newton-Hollows, and the attenuation of Haphazard, Hyacinth, and Mayfly, the mettle of which very excellent steeds Master Charlie had fully resolved to prove. All the delights of Bubbleton and the county gaieties, with the companionship of Blanche, that more than sister, without whom, from his earliest boyhood, no enjoyment could be half enjoyed. And then the flattering pride she would feel in her officer-cousin (Charlie felt for his moustaches so perseveringly, that a short-sighted fellow-traveller thought he had a sore lip), and the request he should be in amongst the young ladies of the neighbourhood, with a romantic conviction that love was not for him, that "the sword was the soldier's bride," etc. Then the dreamer looked forward into the vistas of the future; the parade, the bivouac, and the charge; night-watches in a savage country--for the 20th were even then in Kaffirland--the trumpet alarum, the pawing troop-horses, the death-shock and the glittering blade; a certain cornet hurraing in the van, the admiration of brother officers, and the veteran colonel's applause; a _Gazette_ promotion and honourable mention in dispatches; Uncle Baldwin's uproarious glee at home; and Blanche's quiet smile.

Who would not be a boy again? Yet not with the stipulation we hear so often urged, of knowing as much as we do now. That knowledge would destroy it all. No, let us have boyhood once more, with its vigorous credulity and its impossible romance, with that glorious ignorance which turns everything to gold, that sanguine temperament which sheds its rosy hues even over the bleak landscape of future old age. "Poor lad! how green he is," says worldly experience, with a sneer of affected pity at those raptures it would give its very existence to feel again. "Happy fellow; he's a boy still!" says good-natured philosophy with a smile, half saddened at the thoughts of the coming clouds, which shall too surely darken that sunny horizon. But each has been through the crucible, each recognises that sparkle of the virgin gold which shall never again appear on the dead surface of the metal, beaten and stamped and fabricated into a mere conventional coin. The train whizzes on, the early evening sets in, tired post-horses grope their way up the dark avenue, wheels are heard grinding round the gravel sweep before the house, and the expected guest arrives at Newton-Hallows.

"Goodness! Charlie, how you _have_ been smoking," exclaims Blanche, after their first affectionate greeting, while she shrinks a little from the cousinly embrace somewhat redolent of tobacco; "and how you're grown, dear--I suppose you don't like to be told you are grown now--and moustaches, I declare," she adds, bursting out laughing, as she catches Charlie's budding honours _en profil_; "'pon my word they're a great improvement." Charlie winced a little. There is always a degree of awkwardness even amongst the nearest and dearest, when people meet after a long absence, and the less artificial the character, the more it betrays itself; but Blanche was in great spirits and rattled on, till the General made his appearance, bustling in perfectly radiant with hospitality.

"Glad to see ye, my lad--glad to see ye; have been expecting ye this half-hour--trains always late--and always _will_ be till they hang a director--I've hanged many a man for less, myself, 'up the country.'

Fact, Blanche, I a.s.sure you. You'll have lots of time to dress," he observed, glancing at the clock's white face shining in the fire-light--and adding, with a playful dig of his fingers into Charlie's lean ribs, "We dine in half-an-hour, _temps militaire_, you dog! We must teach you that punctuality and good commissariat are the two first essentials for a soldier." So the General rang a peal for hand candles that might have brought a house down.

And Charlie was well acquainted with all the inmates of Newton-Hollows save Mrs. Delaval. Of her he had often heard Blanche speak as the most delightful of companions, and indulgent of governesses, but he had never set eyes on her in person; so as he effected his tie before the gla.s.s, and drew his fingers over those precious moustaches to discover if change of air had already influenced their growth, he began to speculate on the character and appearance of the lady who was to complete their family party. "A middle-aged woman," thought Charlie--for Blanche, on whom some ten years of seniority made a great impression, had always described her as such--"forty, or thereabouts--stout, jolly-looking and good-humoured, I'll be bound--I know I shall like her--wears a cap, I've no doubt, and a front, too, most probably--sits very upright, and talks like a book, till one knows her well--spectacles, I shouldn't wonder (it's no use making much of a tie for _her_)--pats Blanche on the shoulder when she gives her precedence, and keeps her hands in black lace mittens, I'll bet a hundred!" With which mental wager Master Charlie blew his candles out, and swaggered down-stairs, feeling in his light evening costume, as indeed he looked, well-made, well-dressed, and extremely like a gentleman.

Mischievous Blanche was enchanted at the obvious start of astonishment with which her introduction was received by her cousin--"Mr.

Kettering, Mrs. Delaval." Charlie looked positively dismayed. Was this the comfortable, round-about, good-humoured body he had expected to see?--was that tall, stately figure, dressed in the most perfect taste, with an air of more than high-breeding, almost of command, such as d.u.c.h.esses may be much admired without possessing--was that the dowdy middle-aged governess?--were those long, deep-set eyes, the orbs that should have glared at him through spectacles, and would black lace mittens have been an improvement on those white taper hands, beautiful in their perfect symmetry without a single ornament? Charlie bowed low to conceal the blush that overspread his countenance. The boy was completely taken aback, and, when he led her in to dinner, and heard those thrilling tones murmuring in his ear, the spell, we may be sure, lost none of its power. "She is beautiful," thought Charlie, "and nearly as tall as I am;" and he was pleased to recollect that Blanche had thought him grown. Ladies, we opine, are not so impressionable as men--at least they do not allow themselves to appear so. Either they are more cautious in their judgments, which we have heard denied by those who plume themselves on knowledge of the s.e.x, or their hypocrisy is more perfect; certainly a young lady's education is based upon principles of the most frigid reserve, and her decorous bearing, we believe, is never laid aside, even in tea-rooms, conservatories, shaded walks, and other such resorts, fatal to the equanimity of masculine understanding; therefore Mary Delaval did by no means lose her presence of mind on being introduced to the young gentleman, of whose deeds and sentiments she had heard so much. Woman as she was, she could not but be gratified at the evident admiration her appearance created in this new acquaintance, and truth to speak, "Cousin Charlie" was a youth whose allegiance few female hearts would have entirely scorned to possess; yet there was no occasion to tell the young gentleman as much to his face.

A very good-looking face it was too, with its wide, intellectual brow, round which the brown silky hair waved in such becoming cl.u.s.ters--its perfect oval and delicate high-bred features, if they had a fault, too girlish in their soft, winning expression--in fact, he was as like Blanche as possible; and had his moustaches been shaved, could he indeed have submitted to the sacrifice, his stature lowered, and a bonnet and shawl put on, he might well have pa.s.sed for his pretty cousin. There was nothing effeminate though about Charlie, save his countenance and his smile. That slender, graceful figure was lithe and wiry as the panther's--those symmetrical limbs could toil, those little feet could walk and run, after a Hercules would have been blown and overpowered; and when standing up to his wicket, rousing a horse, or putting him at a fence, there was a game sparkle in his eye that, to use Frank Hardingstone's expression, "meant mischief." Some of these good-looking young gentlemen are "ugly customers" enough when their blood is up, and Cousin Charlie, like the rest, had quite as much "devil" in his composition as was good for him. The "pretty page"

only wanted a few years over his head, a little more beard upon his lip, to be a perfect Paladin.

But the spell went on working the whole of dinner-time; in vain the General told his most wondrous anecdotes, scolded his servants at intervals, and pressed his good cheer on the little party--Charlie _could_ not get over his astonishment. Mrs. Delaval sat by him, looking like a queen, and talked in her own peculiarly winning voice and impressive manner, just enough to make him wish for more. She was one of those women who, speaking but little, seem always to mean more than they say, and on whom conscious mental superiority, and the calm subdued air worn by those who have known affliction, confer a certain mysterious charm, which makes fearful havoc in a young gentleman's heart. There is nothing enslaves a boy so completely as a spice of romance. An elderly Strephon will go on his knees to a romping schoolgirl, and the more hoydenish and unsophisticated the object, the more will the old reprobate adore her; but beardless youth loves to own superiority where it worships, loves to invest its idol with the fabulous attributes that compose its own ideal; and of all the _liaisons_, honourable and otherwise, that have bound their votaries in silken fetters, those have been the most fatal, and the most invincible, which have dated their existence from an earnest boyish heart's first devotion to a woman some years his senior, of whom the good-natured world says, "To be sure she _is_ handsome, but Lor'!

she's old enough to be his mother!"

Not that Charlie was as far gone as this: on the contrary, his was an imaginative poetical disposition, easily scorched enough, but almost incapable of being thoroughly _done brown_. Of such men, ladies, we would warn you to beware; the very temperament that clothes you in all the winning attributes of its own ideal can the most easily transfer those fancied attractions to a rival, inasmuch as the charm is not so much yours as his, exists not in your sweet face, but in his heated and inconstant brain. No, the real prize, depend upon it, is a sensible, phlegmatic, matter-of-fact gentleman, anything but "wax to receive," yet if you can succeed in making an impression, most a.s.suredly "marble to retain." Such a captive clings to his affections as to his prejudices, and is properly subjected into a tame and willing Benedict in half the time it takes to guess at the intentions of the faithless rover, offering on a dozen shrines an adoration that, however brilliant, is

"Like light straw on fire, A fierce but fading flame."

Again was Charlie struck, as he swaggered off to open the door for the ladies, by the graceful movements of Mary's majestic figure. Again the half-bow with which, as she pa.s.sed out, she acknowledged his courtesy, made a pleasing impression on the boy's fancy; and as he lingered for a moment, ere he shut out the rustle of their dresses and the pleasant tones of the women's voices, and returned to the arm-chair and the claret decanter, he could not help hoping "Uncle Baldwin" would be a little less profuse than usual in his hospitality, and a little less prolix in his narrative.

"The young ones drink no wine at all now-a-days," remarked the General, as Charlie a second time pa.s.sed the bottle untouched, and his host filled his gla.s.s to the brim. "Fault on the right side, my lad; we used to drink too hard formerly--why, bless you, when I encountered Tortoise, of the Queen's, at the mess of the Kedjeree Irregulars, we sat for seven hours and a half to see one another out, and the two black fellows fainted who were 'told off' to bring in claret and pale ale as they were wanted. Tortoise recovered himself wonderfully about the eighth bottle; and if he hadn't been obliged to be careful on account of a wound in his head, we should have been there now. Drunk!

how d'ye mean? Not the least--fact, I a.s.sure you."

Charlie got up and fidgeted about, with his back to the fire, but the General would not let him off so easily.

"Show you the farm to-morrow, my boy, you'll be delighted with my pigs--Neapolitans every hair of 'em. What? no man alive shall presume to tell me they're not the best breed! And I'll tell you what, Charlie, I've secured the handsomest short-horned bull in this country. Two hundred, you dog!--dirt cheap--and if you're fond of stock you'll be charmed with him. Poultry too---real Cochin Chinese--got three prizes at the last show; average height two feet seven inches--rare beauties. Hens and chickens in knee-breeches, and a c.o.c.k in trunk-hose!" With which conclusion the chuckling old warrior permitted Charlie to wheedle him off into the drawing-room, whither they entered to find the ladies, as usual, absorbed in worsted work and sunk in solemn silence.

Pleasantly the evenings always pa.s.sed at Newton-Hollows even with a small party like the present. Music, cards, c.o.c.kamaroo, and the eternal racing game, of course, which gives gentle woman an insight into the two fiercest pleasures of the other s.e.x--horse-racing and gambling--and introduces into the drawing-room the slang and confusion of the betting-ring and the hazard-table, served to while away the time. And though the General was even more diffuse than was his wont in personal recollections and autobiography, Blanche scarcely listened, so absorbed was she in her delight at having got Cousin Charlie back again, whilst that young gentleman and Mary Delaval were progressing rapidly in each other's good opinion, and exclaiming, in their respective minds, "What an agreeable person! and so _different from what I expected_!"

Blanche's birthday was always kept as a period of great rejoicing at Newton-Hollows, and a very short time after Charlie's arrival that auspicious anniversary was ushered in, as usual, by the General's appearance at the breakfast-table bearing a cotton-stuffed white and green card-box, highly suggestive of Storr and Mortimer. This was quietly placed by the side of Blanche's plate, and when the young lady made her appearance, and exclaimed, "Dear, kind Uncle Baldwin, what a love of a bracelet!" though we might have envied, we could not have grudged the General the grateful kiss bestowed on him by his affectionate niece. Uncle Baldwin's mind, however, was intent upon weightier matters than jewels and "happy returns." He was to celebrate the festival with a dinner-party; and whilst he had invited several of the _elite_ of Bubbleton to celebrate his niece's birthday, he was anxious so to dispose and welcome his guests as that none should have reason to consider himself especially favoured or encouraged in the advances which all were too eager to make towards the good graces of the heiress; therefore the General held a solemn conclave, as was his wont, consisting of himself and Mrs. Delaval, who on such occasions was requested, with great pomp, to accompany him to his study, an apartment adorned with every description of weapon used in civilised or savage warfare, and to take her seat in his own huge arm-chair, while he walked up and down the room, and held forth in his usual abrupt and discursive manner.

"I have such confidence in your sound sense, Mrs. Delaval," said he, looking very insinuating, and pausing for an instant in his short, quick strides, "that I always consult you in my difficulties." This was said piano, but the forte addition immediately succeeded.

"Reserving to myself the option of acting, for dictation I cannot submit to, even from you, my dear Mrs. Delaval. You are aware, I believe, of my intentions regarding Blanche. _Are_ you aware of my intentions?" he interrupted himself to demand in a voice of thunder.

Mary, who was used to his manner, answered calmly, "that she was not;"

and the General proceeded, in a gentle and confidential tone--

"The fact is, my dear madam, I have set my heart on a family arrangement, which I mention to you as a personal friend, and a lady for whom I entertain the greatest regard."

Mary bowed again, and could hardly suppress a smile at the manner in which the old gentleman a.s.sured her of his consideration.

"Well, though an unmarried man _as yet_, I am keenly alive to the advantages of the married state. I never told you, I think, Mrs.

Delaval, of an adventure that befell me at Cheltenham--never mind now--but, believe me, I am no stranger to those tender feelings, Mrs.

Delaval, to which we men of the sword--ah, ah--are _infernally_ addicted. What? Well, ma'am, there's my niece now, they all want to marry her. Every scoundrel within fifty miles wants to lead Blanche to the altar. Zounds, I'll weather 'em, the villains--excuse me, Mrs.

Delaval, but to proceed--I am extremely anxious to confide my intentions to you, as I hope I may calculate on your a.s.sistance. My nephew, Charlie, to be explicit, is the----Holloa! you woman, come back--come back, I say; you're carrying off the wrong coop. The dolt has mistaken my orders about the Cochin Chinas. In the afternoon, if you please, Mrs. Delaval, we'll discuss the point more at leisure."

And the General bolted through the study window, and was presently heard in violent altercation with the lady who presided over his poultry yard.

Though not very explicit, Mary had gathered enough from the General's confidences to conclude he was anxious to arrange a marriage eventually between the two cousins. Well! what was that to her? He certainly was a very taking boy, handsome, gentle, and high-spirited; nothing could be nicer for Blanche. And she was so fond of him; what a charming couple they would make. "I am so glad," thought Mary, wondering when she might congratulate the bride-elect; "so _very_ glad; dear, how glad I am." Why should Mary have taken such pains to a.s.sure herself how glad she was? Why did she watch the _charming couple_ with an interest she had never felt before, as she joined them on their return from their morning walk? A walk, the object of which (tell it not in Bubbleton) had been to pursue the sport of rat-hunting in a certain barn, with a favourite terrier of Charlie's, a sport that Blanche was persuaded to patronise, notwithstanding her horror both of the game and the mode of its destruction, by her affection for Charlie, and her childish habit of joining him in all his pastimes and amus.e.m.e.nts. How alike they were, with their delicate skin, their deep blue eyes sparkling with exercise and excitement, and their waving brown hair cl.u.s.tering round each flushed and smiling face. How alike they were, and what a nice couple they certainly did make. And Mary sighed, as again she thought how _very_ glad she was!

No further interview took place that day with the General, whose many avocations scarcely permitted him time for the elaborate toilette which, partly out of respect for Blanche's birthday, partly in consideration of his dinner-party, he thought it advisable to perform.

He certainly did take more pains with himself than usual; and as he fixed an order or two in an una.s.suming place under the breast-lap of his coat, a ray of satisfaction shot through his heart that beat beneath those clasps and medals, while the old gentleman thought aloud as usual, "Not such a bad arrangement after all! She certainly did look very queer when I talked of Blanche's marrying. No doubt she's smitten--just like the one at Cheltenham. Bounce! Bounce! you've a deal to answer for. If ever I _do_, it's time I thought of it; don't improve by keeping. 'Pon my life, I might go farther and fare worse.

Zounds! there's the door-bell."

"Lady Mount Helicon!" "Captain Lacquers!" "Sir Ascot Uppercrust!" and a whole host of second-rate grandees were successively announced and ushered into the brilliantly-lighted drawing-room, to be received by the General with the _empress.e.m.e.nt_ of a bachelor, who is host and hostess all in one. Blanche was too young and shy to take much part in the proceedings. Charlie, of course, was late; but Bounce was in his glory, bowing to the ladies, joking with the gentlemen, and telling anecdotes to all, till the announcement of "dinner" started him across the hall, convoying stately Lady Mount Helicon, and well-nigh lost amidst the lappets and flounces of that magnificent dame, who would not have been here at all unless she had owned an unmarried son, and a jointure entirely out of proportion to the present lord's finances.

The rest of the party paired off after their ill.u.s.trious leaders. Sir Ascot Uppercrust took Blanche, who was already lost in surprise at his taciturnity. Miss Deeper skilfully contrived to entangle young Cashley. Kate Carmine felt her heart beat happily against the arm of Captain Laurel, of the Bays. Mr. Gotobed made a dash at Mary Delaval, but "Cousin Charlie," who that instant entered the room, quietly interposed and led her off to the dining-room, leaving a heterogeneous ma.s.s of unappropriated gentlemen to scramble in as they best might.

Mary was grateful for the rescue; she was glad to be near somebody she knew. With a flush of shame and anger she had recognised Captain Lacquers, though that worthy dipped his moustaches into his soup in happy unconsciousness that the well-dressed aristocratic woman opposite him was the same indignant damsel who would once have knocked him down if she could. With all her self-possession, Mary was not blind to the fact that her position was anomalous and ill-defined. She had found that out already by the condescending manner in which Lady Mount Helicon had bowed to her in the drawing-room. With the men she was "that handsome lady-like Mrs. Delaval"; but with the women (your true aristocrats after all) she was _only the governess_.

Dinner progressed in the weary protracted manner that the meal does when it is one of state and ceremony. The guests did not know each other well, and were dreadfully afraid (as is too often the case in good society) of being over civil or attentive to those whose position they had not exactly ascertained. It argues ill for one's stock of politeness when one cannot afford to part with ever so small a portion, save in expectation of a return. So Lady Mount Helicon was patronising and affable, and looked at everything, including the company, through her eye-gla.s.s, but was very distant notwithstanding; and the gentlemen hemmed and hawed, and voted the weather detestable--aw! and the sport with the hounds--aw--very moderate--aw (it was d----d bad after the ladies went away); and their fair companions lisped and simpered, and ate very little, and drank as much champagne as appearances would allow; and everybody felt it an unspeakable relief when Blanche, drawing on her gloves, and blushing crimson at the responsibility, made "the move" to Lady Mount Helicon; and the muslins all sailed away, with their gloves and fans and pocket-handkerchiefs rescued from under the table by their red-faced cavaliers.

When they met again over tea and coffee, things had thawed considerably. The most solemn high-breeding is not proof against an abundance of claret, and the General's hospitality was worthy of his cellar. The men had found each other out to be "deuced good sort of fellows," and had moreover discovered mutual tastes and mutual acquaintances, which much cemented their friendships. To be sure, there was at first a partial reaction consequent upon the difficulty of breaking through a formal circle of ladies; but this feat accomplished, and the gentlemen grouped about cup-in-hand in becoming att.i.tudes, and disposed to look favourably on the world in general, even Sir Ascot Uppercrust laid aside his usual reserve, and asked Blanche whether she had seen anything of a round game called "turning the tables," which the juvenile philosopher further confided to her he opined to be "infernal humbug." In an instant every tongue was unloosed. Drop a subject like this amongst a well-dressed crowd and it is like a cracker--here and there it bounces, and fizzes, and explodes, amongst serious exclamations and hearty laughter. Lady Mount Helicon thought it wicked--Kate Carmine thought it "fun"--Miss Deeper voted it charming--Lacquers considered it "aw--deuced scientific--aw"--and the General in high glee exclaimed, "I vote we try." No sooner said than done; a round mahogany table was deprived of its covering--a circle formed--hands joined with more energy than was absolutely indispensable--white arms laid in juxtaposition to dark coat sleeves--long ringlets bent over the polished mirror-like surface; and amidst laughing entreaties to be grave, and voluble injunctions to be silent, the incantation progressed, we are bound in truth to state, with no definite result. Perhaps the spell was broken by the bursts of laughter that greeted the pompous butler's face of consternation, as, entering the room to remove cups, etc., he found the smartly-dressed party so strangely employed. Well-bred servants never betray the slightest marks of emotion or astonishment, though we fancy their self-command is sometimes severely put to the test. But "turning the tables" was too much for the major-domo, and he was obliged to make his exit in a paroxysm of unseemly mirth. Then came a round game of forfeits--then music--then dancing, the ladies playing by turns--then somebody found out the night was pouring with rain, and the General declared it would be sure to clear in an hour or so, and n.o.body must go away till after supper. So supper appeared and more champagne; and even Lady Mount Helicon was ready to do anything to oblige, so, being a fine musician, she volunteered to play "The Coquette." A chair was placed in the middle of the room, and everybody danced, the General and all. Blanche laughed till she cried; and there was but one feeling of regret when the announcement of her ladyship's carriage broke up the party, just at the moment when, in accordance with the rules of the dance, Charlie sank upon one knee before the Coquette's chair, occupied by stately Mrs. Delaval. He looked like a young knight prostrate before the Queen of Beauty.

When Blanche laid her head upon her pillow, she thought over all her uncle's guests in succession, and decided not one was to be compared to Cousin Charlie; and none was half so agreeable as Mr. Hardingstone.

Mary Delaval, on the contrary, scarcely gave a thought to Captain Lacquers, Sir Ascot Uppercrust, Captain Laurel, or even Mr. Gotobed, who had paid her great attention. No, even as she closed her eyes she was haunted by a young upturned face, with fair open brow and a slight moustache--do what she would, she saw it still. She was, besides, a little distracted about the loss of one of her gloves--a white one, with velvet round the wrist--what could have become of it?

CHAPTER VII

BOOT AND SADDLE

"THE GRAND MILITARY"--SPORT, BUT NOT PLEASURE--WARLIKE ADVANCES--SOME OF ALL SORTS--AN EQUESTRIAN FEAT--THEY'RE OFF--RIDING TO WIN--FOLLOW-MY-LEADER--WELL OVER AND WELL IN--HOME IN A HURRY--A CLOSE RACE--THE HEIRESS WITH MANY FRIENDS--A DAY'S AMUs.e.m.e.nT

"Card of the running 'orses--_cor_-rect card! Major, dear, you always take a card of me!" pleads a weather-worn, good-looking, smart-ribboned card-woman, standing up to her ankles in mud on Guyville race-course. Poor thing! hers is a strange, hard, vagabond sort of life. This very morning she has heard ma.s.s (being an Irish-woman) seventeen miles off, and she will be on her legs the whole of the livelong day, and have a good supper and a hard bed, and be up at dawn to-morrow, ready and willing for a forty-mile tramp wherever money is to be made; so, in the meantime, she hands up half-a-dozen damp cards to Gaston D'Orville, now Major in "The Loyals," and this day princ.i.p.al acting-steward of "The Grand Military Steeple-Chase."

The Major is but slightly altered since we saw him last at Bishops'-Baffler. His tall figure may, perhaps, be a trifle fuller, and the lines of dissipation round his eyes and mouth a little deeper, while here and there his large whiskers and cl.u.s.tering hair are just sprinkled with grey; but for all this, he is still about the finest-looking man on the course, and of this fact, as of every other advantage of his position, no one is better aware than himself. Yet is he not a vain man; cool and calculating, he looks upon such "pulls in his favour," as he calls them, much as he would on "a point in the odds,"--mere chances in the game of life, to be made the most of when opportunity offers. He has just got upon a remarkably handsome white horse, to show the military equestrians "the line" over which they are to have an opportunity of breaking their necks, and is surrounded by a posse of great-coated, shawl-handkerchiefed, and goloshed individuals, mostly striplings, who are nervously ready to scan the obstacles they are destined to encounter.

There are nine starters for the great event, and professional speculators at "The Kingmakers' Arms" are even now wagering that not above three ever reach "home," so low an opinion do they entertain of "the soldiers' riding," or so ghastly do they deem the fences flagged out to prove the warriors' metal. Four miles over a stiff country, with a large brook, and a finish in front of the grand-stand, will furnish work for the horses and excitement for the ladies, whilst the adventurous jocks are even now glancing at one another aghast at the unexpected strength and height of these impediments, which, to a man on foot, look positively awful.

"I object to this fence decidedly," observes a weak, thin voice, which, under his multiplicity of wraps, we have some difficulty in identifying as the property of Sir Ascot Uppercrust. "I object in the name of all the riders--it is positively dangerous--don't you agree with me?" he adds, pointing to a formidable "double post and rail,"

with but little room between, and appealing to his fellow-sufferers, who all coincide with him but one.

"Nothing for a hunter," says the dissentient, who, seeing that the exploit has to be performed in full view of the ladies in the stand, would have it worse if he could. "Nothing for any horse that is properly ridden;--what do you say, major?"