They stared with wide-eyed admiration at the lovely young lady in a beautiful dress, sitting so erect behind a pair of slashing steppers,—and little dreamt how she envied them!
Her husband made no secret of his disgust, and disillusion; scenes were frequent—when he scolded, blustered, and stormed, she wept; when they were alone, conversation was nil; to her timid questions, the answers were generally a grunt; and the miserable girl began to feel that her youth was paralysed and petrified. Often and often, she wished herself back once more in the little top-room at The Holt—could more be said? There, she was partly free; here, she was an abject slave; and at the beck and call of a man whom she heartily feared.
The newly married couple, were invited to formal dinners or to dine, and sleep, at various important places, and the general verdict on the bride was, that she was a pretty nonentity, dull as a kitchen-garden on a winter’s day, who looked positively ashamed of her French gowns and her superb diamonds; and it was no love match.
Hugo contradicted his wife flatly; he had been overheard to assure her that her hat was hideous, and she—worse still—“was a wooden-headed little fool.”
Part of August and September found the Blagdons in Scotland; by the time they had returned home, they had drifted almost entirely apart.
It was true, that Blagdon had his own friends and was superbly independent of his neighbours; numerous guests came from London for pheasant-shooting and hunting, at Sharsley they were all thoroughly at home—indeed, considerably more so than the hostess herself! Lady Rashleigh, had her particular bedroom—this was natural—but why Mrs. Corbett should claim, and occupy, the best of all the state apartments was another affair. Sir Tom and Lady Slater, Lord Robbie and the Baron, and a Colonel Shaddock, who knew everyone, went everywhere, and was a notorious gossip and an irresistible horse-dealer, and various others. There was no doubt, that the party stirred up sleepy old Sharsley, and made it lively, with early starts for cubbing, and late hours for nap and poker; the guests were well acquainted with the resources of the stable and the cellar, the best stands in the woods and coverts, even wise and self-seeking with respect to the most comfortable chairs, and told the bride many things about her home that she now learnt for the first time.
The new mistress made a rather scared and silent hostess; indeed, she was a mere figure-head and nonentity. Lady Rashleigh and Lola Corbett rode Hugo’s best horses, smoked his best cigarettes, lounged about on sofas, issued orders, and did what seemed good in their own eyes.
The great rooms rang with loud voices, and boisterous laughter, and the company talked incessantly of horses, racing, and scandal. Several of the party had brought their hunters; others were mounted by their host. Mrs. Corbett, who for all her langourous grace, rode admirably; she had nerves and muscles of iron—no day too long for her, provided she had a second horse. Lady Rashleigh rode a solid fourteen stone, and gave sore backs to some of her brother’s weight-carriers; whilst Lady Slater came out on wheels, and made no secret of the fact that she funked riding.
Letty, in a smart habit and mounted on a quiet cob, looked well in the saddle; nevertheless at the meets she was left a good deal to herself; as she was not acquainted with the hard-riding set, the intimates of her husband, and his friends, and the neighbours on horseback, or in governess cars, stared over her head with glassy eyes. Her husband’s ‘ukase’ had placed her in the middle of a social desert,—where her only associates were the Lumley family. Lancelot Lumley was home on leave, and when he was out—about once a week—Mrs. Blagdon had someone to ride with and talk to. Her husband’s sporting friends, granted her pretty face and frightened-looking blue eyes; but, as one of them declared, “She could not say boo to a gosling!”