Chapter Seventy.
A Skilful Driver.
“Mrs Girdwood at home?” he asked, addressing himself to the janitor of the hotel.
“I’ll see, sir,” answered the man, making him an obsequious bow, and hurrying away to the office.
The hall-keeper remembered the gent, who carried such good cigars, and was so liberal with them. He had been pleased with his appearance then. He liked it better now in a new coat, unquestionably a Poole, with pants, boots, and tile to correspond. Besides, he had glanced through the glass-door, and seen the cabriolet with its top-booted tiger. To the owners of such he was instinctively polite; but more so to Mr Swinton, remembering his choice cigars.
The ex-guardsman waited for his return with some anxiety. The cabriolet, tiger included, had cost him a “sov.” It would be awkward, if the twenty shillings had been laid out in vain.
He was relieved at the return of the Clarendon Cerberus.
“Mrs Girdwood and fambly are in, sir. Shall I send up your card?”
“Please do.”
And Swinton, drawing out the bit of pasteboard, handed it over to the official.
A servant more active upon his limbs carried it upstairs.
“Nice lady, sir, Mrs Girdwood?” remarked the hall-keeper, by way of “laying pipe” for a perquisite. “Nice fambly all on ’em; ’specially that young lady.”
“Which of them?” asked Swinton, thinking it no harm to strengthen his friendship with the official. “There are two.”
“Well, both on ’em for that matter, sir. They be both wonderful nice creeturs.”
“Ah! true. But you’ve expressed a preference. Now which may I ask, is the one you refer to as specially nice?”
The janitor was puzzled. He did not know which it would be most agreeable to the gentleman to hear praised.
A compromise suggested itself.
“Well, sir; the fair un’s a remarkable nice young lady. She’s got sich a sweet temper, an’s dreadfully good-lookin’, too. But, sir, if it come to a question of beauty, I shed say—in course I ain’t much of a judge—but I shed say the dark ’un’s a splendiferous creetur!”
The janitor’s verdict left his judgment still somewhat obscure. But Mr Swinton had no time to reflect upon it Mrs Girdwood not caring for expense, occupied a suite of apartments on the first floor; and the messenger soon returned.
He brought the pleasing intelligence, that the gentleman was to be “shown up.”
There was an empressement in the servant’s manner, that told the visitor he would be made welcome.
And he was; Mrs Girdwood springing up from her seat, and rushing to the door to receive him.
“My lord! Mr Swinton, I beg your pardon. A whole week, and you’ve not been near us! We were all wondering what had become of you. The girls here, had begun to think—shall I say it, girls?”
Both Julia and Cornelia looked a little perplexed. Neither was aware of what she had “begun to think” about the absence of Mr Swinton.
“Aw—do tell me, by all means!” urged he, appealing to Mrs Girdwood. “I’m vewy much intewested to know. It’s so kind of the young ladies to think of me at all—a paw fawlorn bachelor!”
“I shall tell you then, Mr Swinton, if you promise not to be offended!”
“Offended! Impawsible?”
“Well, then,” continued the widow, without thinking more of the permission asked of “her girls,” “we thought that some terrible affair had happened. Excuse me for calling it terrible. It would only be so to your numerous lady friends.”
“What, pway?”
“That you’d been getting married!”
“Mawied! To whom?”
“Oh, sir; you need scarcely ask. Of course to the Honourable and very beautiful Miss Courtney.”
Swinton smiled. It was a smile somewhat resembling a grin. A terrible affair had happened to him; but not quite so bad as being married to the Honourable Geraldine Courtney—otherwise Kate the coper!
“Aw, ladies!” he replied in a self-deprecating tone, “you do me too much honaw. I am far from being a favowite with the lady in question. We are no gweat fwiends, I ashaw you.”
The assurance seemed gratifying to Mrs Girdwood and a little to Julia. Cornelia did not appear to care for it, one way or the other.
“Fact is,” continued Swinton, following up the advantage gained by the incidental allusion to the Honourable Geraldine, “I’ve just this moment come from qua’lling with her. She wished me to take her out faw a dwive. I wefused.”
“Refused!” exclaimed Mrs Girdwood, in surprise. “Oh! Mr Swinton! Refused such a beautiful lady. So accomplished too! How could you?”
“Well, madam, as I’ve told you, Miss Courtney and I are not bwother and sister. Besides, I dwove her out yesterday, and that should pwead my excuse. To-day I ordered my horse—my best one—just faw a special purpose. I hope I shall not be disappointed?”
“What purpose?” inquired Mrs Girdwood, her visitor’s remark having suggested the question. “Excuse me, sir, for asking.”
“I hope, madam, yaw will excuse me for telling yaw. In a conversation that occurred some days ago, yaw daughter expressed a wish to take a wide in one of our English cabwiolets. Am I wight, Miss Girdwood?”
“True,” assented Julia, “I did. I have a curiosity to be driven behind one of those high-stepping steeds!”
“If yaw will do me the fayvaw to look out of this window, I think yaw will see one that answers the descwiption.”
Julia glided up to the window; her mother going along with her. Miss Inskip did not stir from her seat.
Swinton’s turn-out was seen upon the street below: a cabriolet with a coat of arms upon the panel—a splendid horse between the shafts, pawing the pavement, chafing his bit, flinging the froth over his shining counter, and held in place by a miniature groom in top-boots and buckskins.
“What a pretty equipage?” exclaimed Julia. “I’m sure it must be pleasant to ride in?”
“Miss Girdwood; if yaw will do me the honaw—”
Julia turned to her mother, with a glance that said: “May I?”
“You may,” was the look given back by Mrs Girdwood. How could she refuse? Had not Mr Swinton denied the Honourable Geraldine, and given the preference to her daughter? An airing would do her good. It could do her no harm, in the company of a lord. She was free to take it.
Mrs Girdwood signified her consent; and Julia hastened to dress for the drive.
There was frost in the air; and she came back from her room enveloped in costly furs.
It was a cloak of sea-otter, coquettishly trimmed, and becoming to her dark complexion. She looked superb in it.
Swinton thought so, as with hopeful heart, but trembling hand, he assisted her into the cabriolet!
The drive was round the Park, into Kensington Gardens, and then back to the Clarendon.
But not till after Mr Swinton had passed along Park Lane, and stopped at the door of a great nobleman’s residence.
“It is very wude of me, Miss Girdwood,” said he, “but I have a call to make on his lawdship by appointment; and I hope yaw will kindly excuse me?”
“By all means,” said Julia, delighted with her accomplished cavalier, who had shown himself such a skilful driver.
“One moment—I shall not allow his lordship to detain me more than a moment.”
And Swinton sprang out; surrendering the reins to his groom, already at the horse’s head.
He was true to his promise. In a short time he returned—so short, that his lordship could scarce have done more than bid him the time of day.
In truth he had not seen the nobleman, nor intended seeing him either. It was a counterfeit call; and went no further than a word or two exchanged with the house steward inside the hall.
But he did not tell this to his fair companion in the cabriolet; and she was driven back into Bond Street, and landed triumphantly at the Clarendon, under the eyes of her mother, admiring her from the window.
When that lady had an account of the drive in general, but more especially of the call that had been made, her respect for Mr Swinton was still further increased. He was surely the thing sought for! And Julia began to think so too.