The Quiet Gentleman

“Unfortunate Drusilla!” commented the Earl. “What havoc are my little nephews creating now? When I left her ladyship’s dressing-room they had done nothing more than set fire to the hearthrug.”

“Have no fear! Miss Bolderwood has taken them to the Crimson Saloon, to play at spillikins!” said Theo.

This intelligence had the instant effect of sending the Earl and his brother off to participate in a sport for which each discovered in himself a forgotten, but strong, predilection.

Lady Grampound, meanwhile, was enjoying a tête-à-tête with her Mama, while her husband, himself a landowner, was wandering about the stables and the Home Farm, observing every improvement there since his last visit, and contrasting them all unfavourably with those on his own estate.

Lady Grampound’s object in coming to Stanyon was to meet Marianne rather than to dance at the ball; and since Marianne’s good-manners led her to say that she had never seen stouter or more intelligent children than Harry and John, and her sunny good-nature made it no hardship to her to play with them, her ladyship had no hesitation in declaring her to be a delightful girl, and one to whom she would be happy to see her brother married.

“It is such a shocking thing that poor Martin should be cut out of the succession!” she said. “I was never more grieved than when I heard that Gervase had come through the engagement at Genappe without a scratch, for, you know, the Seventh were heavily engaged there, and one might have supposed — But it was not to be, and, to be sure, I wish him no harm, if only he were not older than Martin. Indeed, I am excessively attached to him, and I shall never forget that he sent dear little Johnny a most handsome christening-gift. But if poor Martin is to be cut out he must marry well, and I do believe Miss Bolderwood is the very girl for him. She seems quite unexceptionable, and they say, Mama, that Sir Thomas must be worth every penny of a hundred thousand pounds, and very likely more. The only thing I do not quite like is to find Ulverston visiting at Stanyon. To be sure, I never heard that he was hanging out for a wife, but now that his Papa has succeeded to the Earldom he must be desirous of seeing his son established, and there is no denying that Ulverston has considerable address. However, he is a man of easy fortune, so that to marry an heiress cannot be an object with him.” This observation caused the Dowager to suffer a qualm. It was but momentary. Her mind was not receptive of new ideas, nor could she suppose that there existed a young man more capable of engaging a maiden’s fancy than her own son. He was tall, handsome, and well-born; and such faults of temper as he showed she regarded in much the same light as her daughter looked on the disobedience of her two little boys: every defect was due to high spirits.

Not being concerned to any very great degree with anything beyond the bounds of her immediate family, Lady Grampound soon passed to topics of more interest to her, and in recounting to her parent little Harry’s progress in ciphering, Johnny’s tendency to bronchial colds, and her own difficulties in finding a second footman who combined smartness with respectability, comfortably whiled away the time until it became necessary for her to change her dress for the ball.

It had been decided by Lady Bolderwood that Marianne should wear her white satin ball-dress with the Russian bodice, and pearls as her only ornaments. Miss Morville, visiting her room to enquire if she had all she needed for the completion of her toilet, privately considered that her ladyship was a good deal to be pitied for being unable to see how lovely her daughter appeared in this festal raiment; but as it was not in her nature to go into raptures she merely admired the dress, reassured Marianne on the vexed question of her curls, which Betty had arranged with charming simplicity, à l’anglaise,and placed a prettily spangled gauze scarf about her shoulders, showing her to a nicety how to dispose its folds to the best advantage. She herself, having already enjoyed several London Seasons, was not obliged to wear white, a colour which had never showed her off to advantage, but was dressed in a crape slip of her favourite soft pink, worn under a figured lace robe. Her pearl necklet was more modest than Marianne’s, but she wore a pair of diamond drops in her ears, and carried an antique fan, and a pair of very long French gloves of a delicate shade of pink which instantly awoke Marianne’s envy. “They are pretty,” acknowledged Miss Morville. “My brother Jack was so obliging as to send them to me, when he was stationed near Paris last year, and I have never yet worn them.”

“Do you know,” confided Marianne, rather shyly, “I had thought that you did not care very much for such things?”