Mrs. Dorriman Volume Iii Part 17

"Then it should interest me, as I am one of the moneyed cla.s.s," laughed Grace; "at least, I have an income all to myself."

She was amused to see Lady Penryn look at her with redoubled interest when she made this statement.

"Let us trust, dear child, that you will use your wealth wisely. Now will you not have some tea or wine?" she continued, waxing hospitable.

Lady Lyons accepted, and they went downstairs before they left. Lady Penryn came up to Grace with a good deal of grace, and kissed her on both cheeks.

"For the sake of old times," she said, plaintively.

"She is a sweet young thing," she continued, "and has fulfilled the promise of her youth;" and Grace noted that she took care not to introduce either of the men standing near.

"We will soon meet again, I _trust_," she said, in a pathetic voice.

"That depends upon you," said Grace, quietly. "When you return our visit I hope we shall be at home."

"Ah! till then, good-bye. Sweet thing--good-bye."

"Sweet thing!--good-bye," mimicked Grace, as they got into the brougham.

"Oh! my dear, hush!--some one might hear you."

"Yes, the coachman. I think we had better pursue your Mrs. Penshurst."

"If I could but remember anything about her husband--but I do not. I lay awake for half-an-hour last night, and I cannot recall his Christian name. It may be Charles, but I think it is John--no, it may be James,"

and Lady Lyons looked blankly before her.

Grace threw herself back in the brougham with a good deal of petulance.

They had been three weeks in London and had not achieved a single acquaintance.

As the carriage turned into Brook Street Grace suddenly caught sight of Sir Albert Gerald. She pulled the check-string, and called him by name.

Much surprised, he turned round and came up to her. She was so near Margaret that it was a pleasure to meet her.

"Come and see me," said Grace: "come to tea. This is Lady Lyons. I want particularly to see you--can you come to-morrow?"

"If you could see me early--but I leave town to-morrow afternoon for a few days."

"I will see you at any time. Eleven in the morning will find me clothed and in my right mind, in the stuffy little sitting-room we call our own."

"Till then, good-bye," he said, stepping back, and raising his hat.

"That poor girl looks frightfully ill," he thought, "as if she had not very long to live;" and he went on from this idea to think of Margaret.

What a curious difference there was between the two sisters--the one so calm and sweet and so thoughtful, the other so restless and so frivolous.

He kept his word, however, and found Grace in a flutter of spirits, a huge Peerage and the Morning Post in front of her.

It was evident that there was some request trembling on her tongue, and that she was longing for the first conventional phrases to be over; the inquiries about Margaret were answered so indifferently, and Grace was all the time keeping a place in the Peerage open with a finger of her left hand.

"Now, Sir Albert, I do want you to do something for me," she said, with more earnestness than she had yet shown.

"If I can," he said, seriously.

"Yes, you can if you will."

"_Apres?_" he asked.

"The d.u.c.h.ess of Mallington is going to give a big 'at-home.' She is your aunt. She is also going to give a ball. Could you not get a card for Lady Lyons and for me to one or other?"

"I think I could," he said; "she's a very dear old lady and I could ask her. She may refuse but I do not think she will."

"Sir Albert, excuse the strength of my language, but you are a darling, there!" exclaimed Grace, laughing and colouring a little. "You do not know how I long to go to just one swell ball, to see it all. It is so dreary moving about in this big place and knowing not one single soul."

"I am sure it must be," said Sir Albert, sympathetically; "it is very natural you should wish to see it all for yourself. I am afraid you will not enjoy it, but I think I can get you the invitation."

"I am sure to enjoy it," and Grace clapped her hands with delight. "Do you not enjoy it?"

"Not much now," he said; "I am very fond of certain people, and I find every one very kind. I like to meet pleasant people in moderation, but I do not go in for much gaiety."

"Only think!" said Grace; "I have never in all my life been to a good, big ball, never!"

"The novelty may amuse you certainly; the only thing is, that if you do not know many people it is very dull looking on and seeing others dancing and talking. If I am there I can take care of you and introduce some men to you at any rate."

"You certainly are a most delightful friend," said Grace, enthusiastically, "and I really do not know how to thank you enough!"

"It is a great pleasure doing anything for you, Miss Rivers. I think you know why!"

"Oh, yes, indeed I do. It is for Margaret."

"Did she tell you I met her accidentally? I got into her railway-carriage without knowing she was there."

"She never told me," said Grace; "Mr. Stevens escorted her till all the changes and junctions and things were pa.s.sed."

"Who is Mr. Stevens?"

"He was Mr. Drayton's manager, and mixed up in his affairs. I thought you might have seen him at Wandsworth. He came to the rescue at that terrible time."

"I saw no one but _her_ then," he said, in a lower voice. "Miss Rivers, do you think she will forget all that frightful business?"

"I think she will: at least, her letters are much less heart-broken than they were. I think she rather nursed her sorrow at Wandsworth. Then she took to going to see sick children and giving away all her money, and she began to get better."

"She gave away all her money?"

"Every farthing he left her. Yes, she would not keep even one hundred pounds a year, nor a hundred pence. She could not bear touching his money."

"I am so glad!" he said, fervently.

"Really?" Grace said, in a curious tone.