Frederica

IV

Miss Merriville, unperturbed by the irruption into her drawing-room of a young gentleman who had contrived to acquire, since she had last seen him some three hours earlier, a crumpled and grubby collar and muddied nankeens, responded with quick sympathy: “Oh, no! How wretched for you! But it can’t have been a fudge, Felix! It was Mr Rushbury who told you about it, and he wouldn’t have hoaxed you!”

By this time Master Felix Merriville had taken cursory stock of the Marquis, but he would undoubtedly have poured forth the story of his morning’s Odyssey to his sister had he not been quelled by another, and older, schoolboy, who, entering the room in his wake, severely adjured him to mind his manners. A large and shaggy dog, of indeterminate parentage, was at his heels; and just as he was apologizing to Frederica for having come in when she was entertaining a visitor, this animal advanced with the utmost affability to greet the Marquis. His disposition was friendly, as he showed by the waving of his plumed tail; and his evident intention was to jump up at the guest. But Alverstoke, wise in the ways of dogs, preserved his face from being generously licked, and his exquisitely fashioned coat of Bath Superfine from being smirched by muddy paws, by catching the animal’s forearms, and holding him at bay. “Yes, good dog!” he said. “I’m much obliged to you, but I don’t care to have my face licked!”

“Down, Lufra!” commanded Mr Jessamy Merriville, in even more severe accents. He added, with his sister’s absence of shyness: “I beg pardon, sir: I would not have brought him in if I had known that my sister was entertaining a visitor.”

“Not at all: I like dogs,” responded his lordship, reducing Lufra to abject slavery by running his fingers along the precise spot on the spine which that grateful hound was unable to scratch for himself. “What did you call him?”

“Lufra, sir,” said Jessamy, a dark flush rising to the roots of his hair. “At least, I never did so! It was a silly notion of my sisters; I called him Wolf, when he was a puppy! But they would persist, so, in the end, he wouldn’t answer to his right name! And he is not a bitch!”

Perceiving that his lordship had been carried out of his depth, Frederica explained the matter to him. “It’s from The Lady of the Lake,” she told him. “I dare say you recall the passage, when the Monarch bade let loose a gallant stag? And Lufra — whom from Douglas side Nor bribe nor threat could e’er divide, The fleetest hound in all the North, Brave Lufra saw, and darted forth. She left the royal hounds midway, And dashing on the antler’d prey, Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank — ”

“And deep the flowing life-blood drank!” interpolated Felix, with relish.

“Stow it!” growled his senior. “It wasn’t a stag at all, sir — merely a young bull, which we had not thought to be dangerous! and as for drinking its life-blood — stuff!”

“No, but you can’t deny that Luff saved you from being gored!” said Frederica. She looked up at Alverstoke. “Only fancy! He was hardly more than a puppy, but he rushed in, and hung on to the bull’s muzzle, while Jessamy scrambled over the gate to safety! And I am very sure that not even the offer of a marrowbone could divide him from Jessamy, could it, dear Luff?”

Gratified by this tribute, the faithful hound flattened his ears, wagged his tail, and, after uttering a yelp of encouragement, sat panting at her feet. His master, rendered acutely uncomfortable by this passage, would have removed himself, his dog, and his brother from the drawing-room if Frederica had not detained him, saying: “No, pray don’t run away! I wish to make you known to Lord Alverstoke! This is my brother Jessamy, sir, and this is Felix.”

His lordship, acknowledging their bows, found that he was being surveyed: by Jessamy, whom he judged to be about sixteen years of age, measuringly; by Felix, three or four years younger, with the unwavering yet incurious gaze of childhood. He was quite unaccustomed to being weighed up; and there was a decided twinkle in his eyes as he looked the boys over.

Jessamy, he thought, was an exaggerated copy of his sister: his hair was darker than hers, his nose more aquiline, and his mouth and chin determined to the point of obstinacy. Felix still retained the snub-nose and the chubbiness of extreme youth, but he had the same firm chin and direct gaze which characterized his seniors, and even less shyness. It was he who broke the silence, blurting out: “Sir! Do you know about the Catch-me-who-can?”

“Of course he doesn’t! Don’t be so rag-mannered!” his brother admonished him. “I beg your pardon, sir: he has windmills in his head!”

“Not windmills: railway locomotives,” replied Alverstoke. He looked down at Felix. “Isn’t that it? Some sort of steam-locomotive?”

“Yes, that’s it!” said Felix eagerly. “Trevithick’s, sir. I don’t mean the Puffing Devil: that ran on the road, but it caught fire, and was burnt.”

“Ay! and a very good thing too!” interjected Jessamy. “Steam-engines on the roads! Why, they would send every horse mad with terror!”

“Oh, pooh! I daresay they would soon grow used to them. Besides, I’m not talking of that one. The one I mean runs on rails — at fifteen miles an hour, and very likely more!” He turned his attention to Alverstoke again. “I know it was brought to London, because Mr Rushbury — my godfather — told me so, and how you could ride in it for a shilling. He said it was north of the New Road, and not far, he thought, from Montague House.”

“I believe it was,” said Alverstoke. “From some cause or another I never visited it, but I do seem to recall that the inventor — what did you say his name is?”

“Trevithick! The first locomotive he made has five wagons, and it can carry ten tons of iron and seventy men, but only at five miles an hour. It’s in Wales — I forget the name of the place — but the one here has one carriage, and — ”

“Will you bite your tongue, you abominable little bagpipe?” interrupted Jessamy. “Anyone would take you for a regular shabster, rattling on like that, and not allowing Lord Alverstoke to edge in a word!”

Abashed by this rebuke, Felix hastily begged his lordship’s pardon; but Alverstoke, amused by him, said: “Nonsense! I can always edge in a word — when I wish to! There was such a locomotive, Felix, but I am afraid it’s a thing of the past. I rather think that Trevithick hired some ground, near Fitzroy Square, fenced it in, and laid down a circular track. As I recall, it created quite a stir, but although a great many people went to see it, few could be persuaded to ride in it — and none at all after a rail broke, and the engine overturned! So it had to be abandoned. It must have been quite ten years ago.” He smiled, seeing the look of disappointment on Felix’s countenance. “I’m sorry! Are you so interested in locomotives?”

“Yes — no — in engines!” stammered Felix. “Steam-power — c-compressed air —! Sir, have you seen the pneumatic lift at that foundry in Soho?”

“No,” said his lordship. “Have you?”

“They wouldn’t let me,” replied Felix sadly. A thought occurred to him; and, fixing his ardent eyes on Alverstoke’s face, he asked, with pent breath: “If you wished to see it — could you?”

Frederica, who had resumed her seat, said: “No, no, Felix! Lord Alverstoke does not wish to! You mustn’t plague him to take you there!”

She was right: Alverstoke had not the remotest desire to inspect a pneumatic lift, but he found himself unable to resist the pleading look in the eyes raised so hopefully to his. He sat down again, smiling a little ruefully, and replied: “I expect I could. But you must tell me more about it!”

At this, Jessamy, well-aware of what would be the outcome of such an invitation, directed an anguished glance at Frederica, but although her eyes twinkled responsively she made no attempt to silence her small brother.

It might have been a task beyond her power. It was seldom that Felix met with encouragement to expatiate on a subject which few people understood, and most thought boring. His eyes brightening, he dragged up a chair, and tried to explain the principles governing pneumatic lifts. From there it was a small step to the pattern-shop engine, which was driven by air from the blowing-machine in the same foundry; and within a very short space of time Alverstoke was being battered by oscillating cylinders, piston-rods, cross-tails, valve-gears, and blast-pipes. Since Felix’s understanding of these mysteries was naturally imperfect he was somewhat incoherent; and his thirst for knowledge led him to bombard Alverstoke with questions, few of which his lordship could answer satisfactorily. However, he had just enough grasp of the subject to enable him to avoid revolting Felix by posing counter-questions betraying the abysmal ignorance which, in that young gentleman’s opinion, rendered his brothers and sisters contemptible, and to promote him from the status of an irrelevant visitor to that of prime favourite. He was the most intelligent auditor Felix had encountered: a regular right one, who could even be pardoned for saying, apologetically: “You know, Felix, I know more about horses than engines!”

This confession, dimming his lustre a trifle in Felix’s eyes, instantly raised him in Jessamy’s esteem. Jessamy demanded to know whether the turn-out he had noticed in the street, and which he described as having a lot of sort about it, belonged to his lordship; and, upon learning that it did, swept his junior aside, and engaged the Marquis in a discussion of the points to be looked for in prime carriage-horses.

Had it been suggested to the Marquis that he should spend half-an-hour with two schoolboys, he would have excused himself without a moment’s hesitation. It was rarely that boredom did not overcome him in any company, but he was not bored. The only son of ceremonious parents, and the youngest of their progeny, he had no experience of family-life as it was enjoyed by the Merrivilles; and since his nephews, produced, when children, in their best clothes for his inspection, and warned of retribution if they did not mind their manners, had appeared to him to be as dull-witted as they were inarticulate, he was agreeably surprised by the young Merrivilles. His sisters might not have approved of their frank, easy ways, or of the total want of diffidence which they considered proper in schoolboys, but he thought them a well-mannered and refreshing pair, and encouraged them with a tolerance which would have astonished those who were best acquainted with him.

He liked them, but there was a limit to his endurance, and when Felix, elbowing Jessamy out of the conversation, sought enlightenment on tubular boilers, recoil-engines and screw-propellers, he laughed, and got up, saying: “My dear boy, if you want to know about steamboats, take a trip down the Thames — don’t ask me!” He turned towards Frederica, but before he could take his leave of her the door opened, and two ladies entered the room. He looked round, and the words of farewell died on his lips.

Both ladies wore walking-dresses, but there the resemblance between them ended. One was a gaunt female, of uncertain age and forbidding aspect; the other was the most ravishing girl his lordship, for all his wide experience, had ever laid eyes on. He realized that he was looking at Miss Charis Merriville, and that his secretary had not overrated her beauty.

From her shining head of golden curls to her little arched feet, neatly shod in kid boots, she presented a picture to take any man’s breath away. Her figure was elegant; her ankles well-turned; her complexion had inspired several admirers to liken it to damask roses, or to ripe peaches; her tender mouth was exquisitely curved; her nose, escaping the aquiline, was straight, with delicately carved nostrils; and her eyes, which gazed innocently upon the world, were of a heavenly blue, and held an expression of candour, and the hint of a wistful smile. She wore a modest bonnet with a curtailed poke; and her dress was concealed by an azure blue kerseymere pelisse. The Marquis’s hand groped instinctively for his quizzing-glass; and Frederica, observing this with sisterly satisfaction, introduced him to her aunt.

Miss Seraphina Winsham, having had the introduction repeated to her in stentorian accents by her nephews, subjected his lordship to a hostile stare, and uttered, repulsively: “I daresay!” She than added: “Oh, go away, do!” but as this was apparently addressed to Lufra, who was frisking about her, his lordship stood his ground. The slight bow he made won no other response than a curt nod, and an even more repelling stare. Miss Winsham, informing Frederica darkly that it was just as she had expected, stalked out of the room.

“Oh, dear!” said Frederica. “She’s in one of her twitty moods! What has put her all on end, Charis? Oh, forgive me! — Lord Alverstoke — my sister!”

Charis smiled at his lordship, and gave him her hand. “How do you do? It was a very civil young man, Frederica, in Hookham’s Library, who got a book down from the shelf for me, because I couldn’t quite reach it. He was most obliging, and even dusted it with his handkerchief before he gave it to me; but my aunt thought him a coxcomb. And they were unable to supply us with Ormond, so I brought away the Knight of St John instead, which I daresay we shall like quite as well.”

These words were spoken in a soft, placid voice; and the Marquis, under whose critical eyes the beauties of many seasons had passed, noted with approval that this one, the most stunning he had yet beheld, used no arts to attract, but, on the contrary, seemed to be unconscious of her charms. As one who had figured for years as the most brilliant catch on the Matrimonial Market, he was accustomed to meet with every artifice designed to ensnare him; and it was with approbation that he recognized the younger Miss Merriville’s unconcern. He asked her how she liked London; she replied that she liked it very well; but her attention was otherwhere, and she made no effort to pursue this opening, saying instead, in mildly reproachful accents: “Oh, Felix-love, you’ve torn a button from your coat!”

“Oh, botheration!” responded Felix, hunching an impatient shoulder. “It don’t signify!”

“Oh, no, not a bit!” she agreed. “Frederica made the tailor supply us with another set, don’t you recall? I’ll sew one on for you in a trice. Only come with me! you can’t go about the town looking like a shag-rag, now, can you?”

It was evident that the youngest Merriville saw no objection to presenting himself to the town in this guise; but equally evident was his acceptance of his elder sister’s authority, when he received, in answer to his glance of entreaty, a decided nod. He said sulkily: “Oh, very well!” but, before suffering himself to be led away by Charis, took his leave of the Marquis, and said eagerly: “And you will take me to Soho, won’t you, sir?”

“If I don’t, my secretary shall,” replied Alverstoke.

“Oh! Well — Well, thank you, sir! Only it would be better if you came with me yourself!” urged Felix.

“Better for whom?” demanded his lordship involuntarily.

“Me,” replied Felix, with the utmost candour. “I daresay they would show you anything you wanted to see, on account of your being a — a second-best nobleman, which I know you are, because it says, in a book I found, that Marquises come directly after Dukes, so — ”

But at this point his disgusted brother thrust him out of the room, pausing only, before following him, to offer Alverstoke a dignified apology for his childish want of conduct. As Lufra followed close on his heels, and Charis, bestowing a valedictory smile on Alverstoke, had already departed, the Marquis was left alone with his hostess.

She said thoughtfully: “As a matter of fact, I fancy it would be better if you took him to that place yourself. He is a very enterprising boy, you know, and there’s never any saying what he may take it into his head to do.”

“Charles will know how to keep him in order,” he replied indifferently.

She looked doubtful, but said no more. It was apparent to her that his lordship had fallen into a mood of abstraction. He was staring unseeingly at the opposite wall, an odd smile playing about the corners of his mouth. It grew, and he suddenly laughed, under his breath, saying: “By God, I’ll do it!”

“Do what?” demanded Frederica.

He had evidently forgotten her presence. Her voice brought his eyes round to her face, but instead of answering her he asked abruptly: “What are they doing here, those brothers of yours? They should be at school!”

“Well, in some ways I think you may be right,” she agreed. “Papa, however, never entertained the idea of sending any of his sons to school. He himself was educated at home, you know. That, of course, may not seem to you a very good reason for pursuing the same course with the boys — and, to own the truth, it doesn’t seem so to me either — but one ought not to be unjust, and it would be unjust to assume that poor Papa thought that his — his errors were due to his upbringing. And I don’t know that they were,” she added reflectively. “The Merrivilles have always had a tendency towards volatility.”

“Have they indeed?” he returned, a satirical curl to his lips. “Is a tutor employed to instruct Jessamy and Felix, then?”

“Oh, yes, scores of tutors!” responded Miss Merriville. She perceived a startled look in his lordship’s eye, and hastened to reassure him. “Oh, not all at once! One after the other, you understand! You can’t think how vexatious! The thing is that if they are old the boys don’t like it, because they can’t enter into their sports; and if they are young they only want to stay for a month or two while they wait to take up a post in a school, or at one of the Universities, or some such thing. And, which is even more provoking, they always fall desperately in love with Charis!”

“That I can readily believe.”

She nodded, but sighed also. “Yes, and the mischief is that she cannot bring herself to repulse them. She has a fatally tender heart, and can’t bear to give pain to anyone — particularly not to people like poor Mr Griff, who was very awkward, and shy, and had red hair, and an Adam’s apple which bobbed up and down in his throat. He was the last tutor. Just at present the boys are enjoying a holiday, but when they have seen all the sights in London, and have grown a little more accustomed, I must engage another tutor for them. But Jessamy is very good, and studies for two hours every day, because he is determined to go up to Oxford when he is eighteen, a year before Harry did.”

“Is Harry at Oxford now?”

“Yes, in his second year. Which is why it seemed to me to be just the moment to come to London for a year. It will do him a great deal of good to see something of the world before he is obliged to settle down at Graynard, don’t you think? Besides, he will enjoy it excessively!”

“I’ve no doubt he will,” said Alverstoke. He looked down at her, a glint in his eyes. “Meanwhile, we have to consider your situation. I have the intention of giving a ball within the next few weeks, to mark the come-out of one of my nieces. You and your sister will appear at it, to be presented to the ton by my sister, and you will all of you doubtless receive invitations to attend a number of other such parties, to which my sister will escort you. Ah! and my cousin, Mrs Dauntry, who also has a daughter to bring out at my ball!”

Frederica’s lips quivered; mischief danced in her eyes; she said: “I am very much obliged to you! What a fortunate circumstance it was that Charis should have come home in time to make your acquaintance!”

“Yes, wasn’t it?” he retorted. “I might not otherwise have realized what a shocking thing it would be to keep such a diamond in the undistinguished shade!”

“Exactly so! And nothing could be better than for her to appear at your ball. I am truly very grateful to you, but there is not the least necessity to invite me as well.”

“Are you proposing to go into seclusion?”

“No, but — ”

“Then there is every necessity for you to appear at my ball. I am strongly of the opinion, too, that your aunt should be prevailed upon to accompany you. Since you are not living under my sister’s roof, it would seem strangely particular if no respectable guardian were to be seen. Her eccentricity need not trouble you — ”

“It doesn’t!” interjected Frederica.

“ — for eccentrics are all the rage,” he continued.

“Well, it wouldn’t trouble me if they were not. But I can’t help thinking that your sister may not agree to this scheme.”

The glint in his eyes became more pronounced. “She will!” he said.

“You can’t know that!” Frederica argued.

“Believe me, I do know it.”

“No you don’t, for you’ve only this instant thought of it yourself,” said Frederica bluntly. “It’s all very well to be so top-lofty, but unless your niece is also a diamond, as you phrase it, Charis will quite outshine her! What mother would consent to bring out her daughter in Charis’s company?”

A smile flickered on his mouth, but that was the only sign vouchsafed her that he was attending to her. He took a pinch of snuff, and said, as he shut his box: “I’ll accept the relationship between us — cousin! — but it’s not enough. You suggested that I should pose as your guardian: very well! let us say that your father commended you to my care. Now, why should he have done so?”

“Well, he did say that you were the best of his family,” offered Frederica.

“That won’t fadge! My sisters, I’ll go bail, know as well as I do how remote is the connection between us! Some better reason must be found to satisfy their curiosity.”

Entering into the spirit of this, Frederica said: “Papa once did you a — a signal service, which you have never till now been able to repay!”

“What service?” asked his lordship sceptically.

“That,” returned Frederica, with aplomb, “is something you prefer not to divulge — particularly to your sisters!”

“Oh, very good!” he approved, the disquieting glint in his eyes yielding to genuine amusement. “I feel myself to be under an obligation to him, and for that reason have assumed the guardianship of his children.” He caught the speculative gleam in her eyes, and his brows rose. “Well?”

“I was merely thinking — cousin! — that if you mean to become our guardian it will be more proper for you to find a suitable tutor for Jessamy and for Felix than for me to do so!”

“I know nothing about such matters — and my guardianship will be quite unofficial!”

“You may depend upon that!” said Frederica. “But I see no reason why you shouldn’t be useful!”

“May I remind you that I have consented to introduce you to the ton? There my usefulness will stop!”

“No, how can it? If you mean to set it about that you think yourself in honour bound to protect us, you must do something besides inviting Charis and me to a ball in your house! To be sure, I am very grateful to you for that — though you wouldn’t have done it if Charis hadn’t bowled you out! — but — ”

“Charis,” he interrupted, “is a very beautiful girl — possibly the most beautiful girl I have yet encountered — but if you imagine that I shall invite her to the ball because I lost my heart to her you are wide of the mark, Cousin Frederica!”

“I must say I hope you won’t do that,” she replied, looking a little troubled. “You are much too old for her, you know!”

“Very true!” he retorted. “She being much too young for me!”

“Of course she is!” Frederica agreed. “So why did you decide suddenly to invite us?”

“That, cousin, I do not propose to tell you.”

She considered him, a gathering frown on her brow, her unwavering gaze searching his face. She was puzzled by him. She had not, at the outset, been favourably impressed: his figure was good, his tailoring exquisite, and his countenance, though not handsome, distinguished; but she had thought that his manner held too much height, and that his eyes were cold, and unpleasantly cynical. Even his smile had seemed to be contemptuous, curling his lips, but leaving his eyes as hard as steel. Then she had said something that had appealed to his sense of humour, and the metallic gleam had vanished in a smile of real amusement. Not only did it warm his eyes, but it transformed him in a flash from the aristocrat of haughty composure to an easy-mannered gentleman, with a strong sense of the ridiculous, and considerable charm of manner. Within minutes he had pokered up again; yet there was not a grain of starch in him when Felix had bounced into the room; he had answered all his and Jessamy’s questions with patience and good-humour; and had looked upon both boys with kindness. He had borne the cavalier treatment meted out to him by Miss Winsham with indifference; and the gaze which he had fixed on Charis had been deeply appreciative. Frederica entertained no doubt that it was admiration for Charis that had caused him to change his mind, but what it was that had brought the malicious glint back into his eyes she could not guess.

She looked doubtfully at him. His brows rose; he said: “Well?”

“I ought to have been a widow!” she exclaimed in a vexed tone. “Yes, and if I had a particle of sense I would have been!”

The expression she mistrusted vanished; his eyes held only laughter. “You will be!” he assured her.

“That’s of no use!” she answered impatiently. “If I were a widow now — ” She broke off, quick merriment in her face. “Well, of all the abominable things to say —! I do have the family in charge — that’s because I’m the eldest — but I’m not tyrannical, or — or vixenish! At least, I don’t think I am!”

“No, no!” he said soothingly. “I am persuaded you handle the reins in excellent form. I wish you will tell me how, if you had had a particle of sense, you could have become a widow? Or why you should wish to: have you a husband concealed about you?”

“Of course I haven’t! I meant only that I ought to have pretended I was a widow. Then I might have chaperoned Charis myself, and you need not have dragged your sister into it.”

“Oh, I haven’t the least objection to doing that!” he said.

“Yes, but she may object very much! After all, she isn’t even acquainted with us!”

“That shall be rectified.” He held out his hand. “I must go now, but you shall hear from me within a day or two. Oh, pray don’t pull the bell! Recollect that I’ve become a member of the family, and don’t stand on points with me! I’ll usher myself out.”

This, however, he was not obliged to do, since Felix was lying in wait for him in the hall, and escorted him out to his carriage in a very civil manner which had its root in his determination to wring from him the promise of a visit to the foundry in Soho.

“Have no fear!” said his lordship. “The matter shall be attended to.”

“Yes, sir — thank you! But you’ll go with me yourself, won’t you? Not your secretary?”

“My dear boy, why should I? I daresay Mr Trevor knows far more about these mysteries than I do.”

“Yes, but — Oh, do come yourself, sir! It would make it first-rate!”

The Marquis believed himself to be hardened against flattery. He thought that he had experienced every variety, but he discovered that he was mistaken: the blatantly worshipful look in the eyes of a twelve-year-old, anxiously raised to his, was new to him, and it pierced his defences. He was capable of giving the coolest of set-downs to any gushing female; and the advances of toadeaters he met with the most blistering of snubs; but even as he realized how intolerably bored he would be in Soho he found himself quite unable to snub his latest and most youthful admirer. It would be like kicking a confiding puppy.

So Master Felix Merriville, presently racing up the stairs again to the drawing-room, was able to inform Frederica triumphantly that all was right: “Cousin Alverstoke” was going to take him to see the pneumatic lift himself, and, further, that he was a regular trump.