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‘But you have loved him for years!’ Trix blurted out.
‘Indeed I have!’ said Henrietta cordially. ‘I am sure I always shall!’
‘Hetty! When you have been writing to him for ever!’
‘Pray, what has t
hat to say to anything? To me, he is the elder brother I never had.’
‘Hetty, what a hum! He is my brother, and I never wrote to him above twice in my life!’
Before Henrietta could reply suitably to this, they were joined by a willowy young gentleman in whom only the very stupid could have failed to recognize a Pink of the Ton. From the tip of his pomaded head to the soles of his dazzling Hessians, the Honourable Timothy Allerton was beautiful to behold. He was generally supposed to care for nothing but the fashion of his neckcloth, but he showed unmistakable signs of caring for the news which his sister broke to him. ‘Not going to offer for Hetty?’ he repeated, aghast. ‘Well, upon my soul! Well, what I mean is, might think what’s due to the rest of us! Mind, I don’t say I’m surprised he don’t like it above half, but the thing is he’s the head of the family, and he dashed well ought to do it! What’s more,’ he said, his amiable countenance darkening, ‘if he thinks he can make me offer for her he’ll find he’s devilish mistaken! It ain’t that I don’t like you, Hetty,’ he added kindly, ‘because I do, but that’s coming it a trifle too strong!’
3
If the Viscount had harboured doubts of his mother’s veracity, these were speedily dispelled. His cousin, far from having been kept in seclusion, seemed to him to be acquainted with all the eligible bachelors upon the town, and with far too many of those whom he did not hesitate to stigmatize as gazetted fortune-hunters. She dispensed her favours impartially amongst these gentlemen, whirled about town under the chaperonage of various not wholly disinterested matrons, and in general conducted herself with such frivolity that her perturbed aunt said that she had never known her to be in such a flow of spirits. She raised hopes in a dozen breasts, but the only suitor for whom she betrayed the smallest partiality was Sir Matthew Kirkham; and it was absurd to suppose (as Lady Allerton assured Alan) that a girl with as much good sense as Hetty would for an instant entertain the pretensions of a penniless roué, past his first youth, and with at least two unsavoury scandals attached to his name.
Alan could place no such dependence on his cousin’s good sense. It was rarely that he took a dislike to anyone, but he took a quite violent dislike to Sir Matthew, and warned Henrietta to give the fellow no encouragement: an exercise of cousinly privilege which had no other effect than to cause her to wear Sir Matthew’s flowers at the Opera House that very evening.
He was brought to realize that however obnoxious Kirkham might appear in the eyes of his fellow-men he possessed considerable charm for the ladies: Trix told him so. Trix listened with interest to his trenchantly expressed opinion of Sir Matthew, and then disgusted him by talking of the fellow’s polished manners, and of the distinguishing attentions he had for so long bestowed upon Hetty.
Sir Matthew was not one of the two hundred guests invited to have the honour of being presented to the Tsar’s sister. This lady had arrived in England some time before the various Kings, Princes, Generals, and Diplomats who were coming to take part in the grand Peace celebrations, and was putting up at the Pulteney Hotel. She was neither beautiful nor particularly amiable, but she was being much courted, and had already created a mild sensation by being rude to the Prince Regent, and by parading the town in enormous coal-scuttle bonnets, which instantly became the rage. Trix, giggling over the story of her having abruptly left the party at Carlton House just as soon as the expensive orchestra provided for her entertainment had struck up, because (she said) music made her want to vomit, prophesied that her departure from Lady Allerton’s ball would be equally speedy; but Lady Allerton, well-acquainted with the Grandduchess, said, No: she only behaved like that when she wished to be disagreeable.
Trix was not to appear at the ball either. The Viscount had told her that with all the will in the world to do so he was unable at present to find the funds which would enable his mama to launch her into society; and Lady Allerton’s sense of propriety was too nice to allow of her consenting to let her daughter attend a ball of such importance before she was out.
Trix bore her disappointment surprisingly well, neither arguing with Alan nor reproaching him. Touched by her restraint, he promised her a magnificent début the following spring, if he had to sell every available acre to achieve it. She thanked him, and said that she had made up her mind to help him in his difficulties.
Such unprecedented docility ought to have alarmed Henrietta, but Henrietta was too much occupied with her own affairs to notice it. It was not until the very evening of the ball, when Trix helped her, in the most selfless way, to array herself in all the elegance of primrose satin and pale green gauze, that it occurred to her that this saintly conduct was as suspicious as it was unusual. But Trix, looking the picture of hurt innocence, assured her that she had no intention of perpetrating some shocking practical joke, and she was obliged to be satisfied. Trix embraced her with great fondness, and she went away to join Lady Allerton feeling that she had misjudged her wayward cousin.
In this belief she continued until midnight, when she suffered a rude disillusionment.
4
Mr Allerton, seizing a respite from his conscientious labours on the floor, stood in the doorway of the ballroom, and delicately wiped his brow. The May night was very warm, and although the long windows stood open scarcely a breath of wind stirred the curtains which masked them, and the heat from the hundreds of wax candles burning in the wall-sconces and in the huge crystal chandelier which hung from the ceiling was making not only the flowers wilt, but every gentleman’s starched shirt-points as well. But this was a small matter. Mr Allerton, a captious critic, was well-satisfied with the success of the ball. Every domestic detail had been perfectly arranged; his mother did him the greatest credit in a robe of sapphire satin lavishly trimmed with broad lace; his cousin was in quite her best looks; and even his brother, although dressed by a military tailor, did not disgrace him. The Grandduchess was in high good humour; besides the flower of the ton, two of the Royal Dukes were lending lustre to the evening; and, to set the final cachet upon a brilliant function, the great Mr Brummell himself was present.
These agreeable reflections were interrupted. A hand grasped Mr Allerton’s wrist, and his cousin’s voice said urgently in his ear: ‘Timothy, come quickly to my aunt’s dressing-room! I must speak to you alone!’
A horrible premonition that the champagne had run out and the ice melted away seized Mr Allerton. But the news which Henrietta had to impart to him had nothing to do with domestic arrangements. She was clutching in one hand a sheet of writingpaper, with part of the wafer that had sealed it still sticking to its edge, and this she dumbly proffered. Mr Allerton took it, and mechanically lifted his quizzing-glass to his eye. ‘What the deuce – ?’ he demanded. ‘Lord, I can’t read this scrawl! What is it?’
‘Trix!’ she uttered, in a strangled voice.
‘Well, that settles it,’ he said, giving the letter back to her. ‘Never been able to make head or tail of her writing! You’d better tell me what it is.’
‘Timothy, it is the most terrible thing! She has eloped with Jack Boynton!’
‘What?’ gasped Timothy. ‘No, hang it, Hetty! Must be bamming you!’
‘No, no, it is the truth! She is not in the house, and she left this note for me. Dawson has this instant given it to me!’
‘Well, I’m dashed!’ said Timothy. ‘Jack Boynton? Y’know, Hetty, I wouldn’t have thought it of him!’
Too well accustomed to Mr Allerton’s mental processes to be exasperated, Henrietta replied: ‘No, indeed! She must have persuaded him to do it: he is so very young! I never dreamed – Good God, I thought that affair had ended months ago! How could she have been so sly? But I might have guessed how it would be! If I had not been so selfishly taken up with my own troub – I mean, pleasures! – it could never have happened! Timothy, I must act immediately, and you must help me!’
He blinked at her. ‘Dash it, can’t do anything in the middle of m’mother’s party!’
‘We can, and we must! They have fled to Gretna Green, and they must be overtaken!’
‘Gretna Green?’ echoed Mr Allerton, revolted. ‘No, really, Hetty! Can’t have!’
