Page 17 of Sprig Muslin


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‘Lord, Giles, she’d enough to jump at the chance of making such a match! She won’t cry off just because Ludlow has a nonpareil in his charge: not the sort of girl to take a pet, though I own I wouldn’t have thought Ludlow was the man to do such a daffish thing.’

‘Well, she didn’t jump at the chance!’ said the Earl angrily. ‘Said she didn’t wish for the marriage! Almeria thought she would come round to it, but I’ll go bail she wasn’t bargaining for this mischance!’

‘Well, by God!’ ejaculated Mr Theale. ‘Do you mean to tell me you let the poor fellow come all this way when you ain’t sure Hester means to have him? Well, damme, what a backhanded turn to serve him!’

‘Oh, stuff!’ said Lady Widmore, in her strident voice. ‘Let him go the right way to work with her, and she’ll have him! But I’ll see to it that that little baggage is sent packing in the morning! Daughter of some old friends, indeed! Fine friends, to be sending their daughter about the country with no respectable female to look after her! Coming it very much too strong, I make bold to say!’

‘I should not have thought it of Ludlow,’ said her husband. ‘Who that young female is, or what she is, I do not pretend to know, but I am very much shocked by the whole affair.’

‘Don’t talk like a fool!’ said his father irritably. ‘For anything I know, Ludlow may have half a dozen mistresses in keeping, but if you imagine he would bring some fancy-piece here you must be a bigger bottlehead than ever I guessed! That ain’t what’s worrying me!’

‘Well, it ought to worry you,’ observed his brother. ‘I’m not a worrying man myself, but if I’d sired such a pea-goose as Widmore it would keep me awake at night, I can tell you that.’

This ill-timed facetiousness enraged the Earl so much that he looked to be in danger of bursting several blood-vessels. Before he could command his voice sufficiently to deal with Mr Theale as he deserved, his daughter-in-law, who had accorded the pleasantry a hearty laugh, intervened, saying: ‘Now, you hold your tongue, Fabian, do! I know what’s worrying you, sir, and small blame to you! If Hetty don’t snap Ludlow up while she has the chance to do it, he’ll be head over ears in love with that girl, and you may kiss your fingers to him. I don’t say she’s his mistress, but I’d lay you odds she’s up to no good. What’s more, she’s a beauty – if you like those bold eyes, which, for my part, I don’t, though it’s easy to see t

hey’re exactly to Sir Gareth’s taste! Well, what I say is that to set poor Hetty beside that bird of paradise is to ruin any chance she might have had!’

The truth underlying these blunt words was forcibly brought home to the company, when, just before dinner was announced, Hester led Amanda into the room.

Had Lady Widmore given way to impulse at that moment, she would have boxed her sister-in-law’s ears. One glance at the radiant vision on the threshold was enough to inform her that Hester, like the hen-witted female Lady Widmore had for long considered her to be, had lent one of her own gowns to the interloper. Its rose-pink sheen had never become Hester, but it was fair to say that it might have been created especially to show Amanda off to the best advantage. The chit looked dazzlingly lovely, her great eyes sparkling with pleasure in her first silk gown, her cheeks a little flushed, and her lips just parted in a smile at once shy and triumphant. Small wonder that all the gentlemen were staring at her, like dogs at a marrow-bone! thought her ladyship bitterly.

Amanda was in fine fettle, and had been peacocking in front of the mirror for several minutes, admiring herself, and playing at being a grand lady. She expected to stun all beholders by so much magnificence, and she was pleased to perceive that she had done it. A month at Bath had by no means inured her to admiration, but it had taught her a good deal about the ways of fashionable beauties. To Sir Gareth’s appreciative amusement, she began to play off all the tricks she had observed, flirting with the fan Hester had given her, and making shameless use of her brilliant eyes. Nothing, he thought, could more surely have betrayed her extreme youthfulness. She was like a child, allowed to dress-up in her elder sister’s clothes, and doing her best to ape the ways of her seniors. He could picture his niece, who always became alarmingly grown-up if ever he took her for a drive round the Park, play-acting in just such a style; and he knew exactly how to apply a damper to spirits mounting too high. Well, if she became too outrageous he would apply that damper; but if she kept within bounds he would let her enjoy herself: it might keep her from hatching plans of escape from him.

At that moment, she caught his eye, and threw him a look so saucy and full of challenge that he nearly laughed out loud. It was at this precise instant that Mr Whyteleafe entered the saloon.

Mr Whyteleafe came prepared to meet Sir Gareth, but he was by no means prepared for Sir Gareth’s travelling companion, and the sight of Amanda exchanging what he afterwards described as a very Speaking Look with Sir Gareth held him transfixed for several moments. His startled eyes rolled towards Lady Hester, and she, perceiving him, kindly presented him to Amanda.

Amanda, flattered by the attentions of Mr Theale, was civil, but unenthusiastic. Clergymen, in her view, were sober persons who almost always disapproved of her; and this one, she thought, wore an even more disapproving expression than the Rector at home. She made no effort to engage him in conversation but turned back to the practised gallantries of Mr Theale.

Mr Whyteleafe, who, to do him justice, had no desire to converse with a young female whom he had instantly perceived to be fast, made his way to Lady Widmore’s side, and begged her, in an undervoice, to tell him who Amanda might be.

‘Don’t ask me!’ she replied, shrugging up her shoulders. ‘All I can tell you is that Sir Gareth brought her here.’

He looked very much shocked, and could not forbear to cast a glance towards Lady Hester. She did not appear to be in any way discomposed, nor did it seem as though she were offended with Sir Gareth. She was, in fact, smiling faintly at him, for he had crossed the room to her side, and had just thanked her for her kindness in providing Amanda with a dress to wear.

‘Oh, no! I am so glad I had one that becomes her so well. How very beautiful she is!’

‘Little monkey! You will own, however, that it would be a sin to permit her to cast herself away on her Brigade-Major before she has had a chance to set the town ablaze! Give her a year to find her balance, and I promise you she will.’

‘Yes, I suppose she would.’

‘Unconvinced?’ he said quizzically.

‘I don’t know. She is a very unusual girl.’

‘Yes, something quite out of the ordinary – but too inexperienced yet to settle upon a husband.’

She was silent for a moment, her eyes lifted to his profile. He was watching Amanda, but as though he was conscious of Hester’s regard, he turned his head, and smiled down at her. ‘Don’t you agree?’

‘Perhaps you are right,’ she said. ‘Oh, yes, I expect you must be! She will very likely change her mind.’

Six

By the time dinner came to an end, several persons at the table were fully persuaded that however innocent the relationship between Sir Gareth and Amanda might be, Sir Gareth was far more interested in that lively damsel than was at all seemly in one on the verge of proposing marriage to another lady. He was placed between Hester and Lady Widmore, on the opposite side of the table to Amanda, and while he conversed with easy good manners with both of these ladies, it was noticed that his attention was seldom wholly distracted from Amanda. What no one could have guessed from his demeanour was that his interest was not at all pleasurable, or that this informal dinner-party would live in his memory as the most nerve-racking function he had ever attended.

That he must keep a watchful eye on Amanda had been decided at the outset, when he saw her, after doubtfully considering the wine the butler had poured into her glass, take a cautious sip. Probably one glass would do her no harm, but if that fool of a butler tried to refill it, intervene he must. She was behaving with perfect propriety, but she was undoubtedly flown with pink silk and compliments, and was receiving every encouragement from Fabian Theale to overstep the bounds of decorum. Sir Gareth was not particularly acquainted with Mr Theale, but he knew him by reputation. Ten minutes spent in listening with half an ear to Mr Theale’s conversation confirmed his belief in all the most scandalous stories he had heard of that enterprising gentleman, and imbued him with a strong desire to plant him a flush hit with a right justly famed in Corinthian circles.

But Amanda was not unacquainted with middle-aged roués who adopted a fatherly air in their dealings with her; and Amanda, however elated, had by no means lost her head. She was prepared to enjoy to the full a slightly intoxicating evening undimmed by the repressive influence of a careful aunt, but not for one moment did she forget the end she meant to achieve. She had passed the entire company under review, and had rapidly reached the conclusion that the only possible ally was Mr Theale. While her face wore an expression of flattering interest in what he said to her, and her pretty lips formed appropriate answers, her brain was busy with the problem of how to turn him to good account.

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