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‘Excellent! I am delighted,’ said the Captain. ‘I need not try to emulate his lordship, I see.’
She laughed. ‘Emulate such genius! No one could do that, I am sure. You must know that my abuse of Lord Byron has its root in pique. He barely noticed me! You will not expect me to do him justice after that!’
Lord Byron continued to obsess the thoughts of Society. His connection with Lady Caroline was everywhere talked over, and exclaimed at; his verses and his person extravagantly extolled: even Mrs Scattergood, who was not bookish, was able to repeat two or three consecutive lines of Childe Harold.
Peregrine, as might be supposed, was not much interested in his lordship. He had thrown off his cough, seemed to be in good health, and had only two things to vex him: the first, that Worth could not be prevailed upon to consent to his wedding-date being fixed; the second, that not even Mr Fitzjohn would put his name up for membership to the FourHorse Club. This select gathering of all the best whips met the first and third Thursdays in May and June in Cavendish Square, and drove in yellow-bodied barouches to Salt Hill at a strict trot. There the members dined, either at the Castle, or the Windmill, having previously lunched at Turnham Green, and refreshed at the Magpies on Hounslow Heath. The return journey was made the next day, without change of horses. Judith could not see that there was anything very remarkable in the club’s performance, but for fully two months the sum of Peregrine’s ambition was to have the right to join that distinguished procession to Salt Hill, driving the bay horses, which (though the colour was not absolutely enforced) were very much de rigueur. He could never see Mr Fitzjohn in the club’s uniform without a pang, and would have given all his expensive waistcoats in exchange for a blue one with inch-wide yellow stripes.
‘No, really, my dear Perry, I can’t do it!’ said Mr Fitzjohn, distressed. ‘Besides, if I did, who should we get to second you? Peyton wouldn’t, and Sefton wouldn’t, and you wouldn’t have asked me to put you up if you could have got Worth to do it.’
‘I am pretty well acquainted with Mr Annesley,’ said Peregrine. ‘Don’t you think he might second me?’
‘Not if he has seen you with a four-in-hand,’ said Mr Fitzjohn brutally. ‘Anyway, you’d be blackballed, dear old fellow. Try the Bensington: I believe they are not near so strict, and there’s no knowing but they may have a vacancy.’
But this would by no means satisfy Peregrine; it must be the F.H.C. or nothing for him.
‘The fact of the matter is,’ said Mr Fitzjohn frankly, ‘you can’t drive, Perry. I will allow you to be a bruising rider, but I wouldn’t sit behind you driving a team for a hundred pounds! Cow-handed, dear boy! cow-handed!’
Peregrine bristled with wrath, but his sister broke into low laughter, and later reproduced the expression, which had taken her fancy, to her guardian. She came up with his curricle when she was driving her phaeton in the Park, and drawing up alongside, said prettily:‘I have been wishing to meet you, Lord Worth. I have a favour to ask of you.’
His brows rose in surprise. ‘Indeed! What is it, Miss Taverner?’
She smiled. ‘You are not very gallant, sir. You must say:“Anything in my power I shall be happy to do for you”; or, more sim-ply: “The favour is yours for the asking.”’
He replied in some amusement: ‘I mistrust you most when you are cajoling, Miss Taverner. What is this favour?’
‘Why, only that you will contrive to get
Perry elected to the Whip Club,’ said Judith in her most dulcet voice.
‘My instinct for danger seldom fails me,’ remarked his lordship. ‘Certainly not, Miss Taverner.’
She sighed. ‘I wish you might. He can think of nothing else.’
‘Recommend him to approach his friend Fitzjohn. He might put him up, even though I shall blackball him.’
‘You are very disagreeable. Mr Fitzjohn is as bad. He says Perry is cow-handed.’
‘I imagine he might, but I can see no need for you to use the expression.’
‘Is it very vulgar?’ inquired Judith. ‘I thought it excessively apt.’
‘It is extremely vulgar,’ said the Earl crushingly.
‘Well,’ said Judith, preparing to drive on, ‘I am very glad I am not your daughter, Lord Worth, for you are a great deal too strict in your notions, I think.’
‘My daughter!’ exclaimed the Earl, looking thunderstruck.
‘Yes; are you surprised? You must know I should not like to have you for my father at all.’
‘I am relieved to hear you say so, Miss Taverner,’ said the Earl grimly.
Miss Taverner bit back a smile at having put him out of countenance, bowed, and drove on.
It was some time before Peregrine could recover from his disappointment, but by the middle of April his thoughts took a turn in another direction, and he began to urge Judith to approach Worth on the subject of their spending two or three months at Brighton. She was very willing; London, from the circumstance of the Regent having celebrated his birthday, on April 12th, at Brighton, was growing already rather thin of company; and from all she had heard they would be in danger of missing their chance of acquiring a suitable lodging at Brighton if they delayed much longer. It was arranged between them that if Worth gave his consent Peregrine would drive down with their cousin to arrange accommodation for a date early in May.
The Earl gave his consent with the utmost readiness, but contrived to provoke Miss Taverner. ‘Certainly. It will be very desirable for you to go out of town for the summer. I had fixed the 12th May as a convenient date, but if you like to go sooner I daresay it can be arranged.’
‘You had fixed – !’ repeated Miss Taverner.‘Do you tell me you have already made arrangements for our going to Brighton?’
