The Quiet Gentleman

The Dowager, who had resumed her own seat by the fire, said: "I assure you, he is perfectly well again, my dear Mrs. Morville. Young men, you know, are amazingly quick to recover from such accidents. I daresay his nerves have suffered less than mine. I have a great deal of sensibility. I do not deny it: I am not ashamed to own the truth. Dr. Malpas has been obliged to visit me every day, and in general I enjoy very good health. I inherit my constitution from my dear father. You were not acquainted with my father, Mr. Morville. I have often been sorry that you were not, for you would have been excessively pleased with one another. My father was a great reader, though not, of course, during the hunting-season."

Fortunately, the historian was too well-used to having such remarks addressed to him to betray his feelings other than by a satirical look over the top of his spectacles, and a somewhat dryly expressed regret that he had not been privileged to meet the late Lord Dewsbury. Mrs. Morville began to talk to the Earl about his service in the Peninsula; her husband returned to his interrupted conversation with Ulverston, and the Dowager addressed one of her monologues to Sir Thomas, in which her affection for her stepson, her hatred of poachers, and the state of her nerves became inextricably mixed with her conviction that if young persons in general, and St. Erth in particular, had more regard for their elders they would take care not to incur accidents calculated to alarm them. By the time she had recollected two of her deceased parent's moral reflections upon the selfishness of young people, Sir Thomas discovered that he must carry his daughter back to Whissenhurst. The Dowager, although she had observed with displeasure Lord Ulverston's attentions to Marianne, had lately had other things to occupy her mind than Martin's courtship. She said graciously: "Marianne is in very good looks. I am always pleased to welcome her to Stanyon, for she has very pretty manners, and she was most good-natured in playing at spillikins with dear little Harry and John. When I come to London I daresay I shall find her quite the belle of Almack's—that is, if you have vouchers, and if you have not I shall be happy to procure them for you."

"Much obliged to you!" said Sir Thomas, anything but gratefully. "No difficulty about that, however! I hope your ladyship will come to London in time to attend Lady Bolderwood's ball. Don't mind telling such a kind friend as you that you'll hear me make an interesting announcement." He observed, with satisfaction, a startled look on her face, and chuckled. "Ay, that's the way the wind blows!" he said, with a jerk of his head towards Lord Ulverston. "We said it must remain a secret until after the little puss's presentation, but, lord! I suppose it must be all over the county by now!"

He then took his leave, and the party broke up. Both St. Erth and Ulverston escorted the visitors downstairs, and while the Morvilles' carriage was waited for, Sir Thomas, finding himself beside his host, shot one of his penetrating looks at him, and said: "So it was a poacher, was it? H'm! Coming it strong, but I don't blame you! I shan't give you my advice, because for one thing it ain't any of my business, for another you young fellows never listen to advice, and for a third I've a notion you'll manage your affairs very well for yourself. Only don't take foolish risks, my lord! Where's your cousin?"

"At Evesleigh," replied the Earl.

Sir Thomas grunted. "Gone back there, has he? Well! You be careful! That's all I've got to say!"

He gave the Earl no opportunity to answer him, but turned away to bid farewell to Mrs. Morville. By the time the carriage had driven off, his own and Marianne's horses had been brought round from the stables. Lord Ulverston lifted Marianne into the saddle, good-byes were exchanged, and the Bolderwoods rode away. Ulverston, perceiving that the Earl's thoughtful gaze was following Sir Thomas, said: "Regular quiz, ain't he? Rather wondered at first what m'father would say to him, but I daresay they'll deal famously together. He's no fool, Sir Thomas: in fact, he's a devilish knowing cove!"

"I begin to think you are right," said the Earl slowly. "Devilish knowing!—unless I misunderstood him."

CHAPTER 20

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The effect of Sir Thomas's morning-call could hardly have been said to have been happy. Its repercussions were felt mostly by the long-suffering Miss Morville, who was obliged not only to lend a sympathetic ear to the Dowager's tedious and embittered animadversions on the duplicity of Lord Ulverston and the Bolderwoods, but also to dissuade her from casting repulsive looks at Ulverston, and from mentioning more than once a day that the task of entertaining her stepson's friends at the Castle imposed a strain upon her enfeebled nerves which they could ill support.