Cousin John had allowed his fair cousin's vehement vituperations to pass unchallenged over his humbled head. That there was some truth in her argument he himself could not deny, and it was a fact that fears very akin to her own in the matter of the money had more than once crossed his mind. Feeling, therefore, that the reproof, though exceptionally violent, was not undeserved, he dropped his bland, cynical manner, and when at last the fair Julia paused in her invectives, chiefly for lack of breath, and also because tears of anger were choking her voice, he spoke to her quite quietly and almost apologetically.
"Indeed, Coz," he said, "I would have you believe that I am deeply touched by your reproaches, which, alas, I may have merited to a certain extent. Zeal in your cause may have rendered me less far-seeing than I really should have been, considering what we both have at stake. But let me tell you also that I have not been quite such a dolt as you seem to think. You are quite wrong in supposing that Michael Kestyon would have acted the part which he did for a less sum than we have given him. Nothing but a real substantial fortune would have tempted Michael. Nothing," reiterated Sir John emphatically, seeing that Julia made a contemptuous gesture of incredulity. "He is a curious mixture of the wastrel and the gentleman; if we could not satisfy his ambition, we could not attack his sense of honour. Where we made the mistake was in thinking that a substantial sum would satisfy him in itself. No one guessed that his dormant claim to the peerage of Stowmaries was still of such vital importance to him. He had ceased to move actively in the matter partly through the lack of money, but also in part through the moral collapse which he has undergone in the past two years. I confess that I did think that when he was possessed of his newly-acquired fortune, he would continue the life of dissolute vagabondage which we all believed had become his second—nay, his only nature. It seems that we were all mistaken—"
"What do you mean? Has anything occurred already?" asked Julia, who found all her fears increased tenfold at Cousin John's seriously-spoken words.
"No! No! No!" he said reassuringly, "nothing at present, save that Michael Kestyon has made no attempt to return to his boon companions in the various brothels which were wont to be his haunts. Rumour hath it that he is oft seen in the company of my lord Shaftesbury, and there is no doubt that the king was vastly amused by the adventure. Some say that royal smiles are the sure precursors to royal favours. But between entertaining Charles II with tales of spicy adventures and obtaining actual decisions from him in important matters lie vast gulfs of kingly indifference and of kindly indolence. There is nothing that the king hates worse than the giving of a decision, and, believe me, that he will dilly-dally with Michael until that young reprobate will have spent every penny of his new fortune, and will have none left to offer as a bribe to our merry monarch. It is not cheap, believe me, to be a temporary boon companion to Charles Stuart, and a great deal more than a hundred thousand pounds would have to pass through Michael's fingers in keeping up a certain gentlemanly state, in tailor's accounts, in bets and in losses at hazard, before the king would think of rewarding him in the only manner which would compensate him for all the money expended in obtaining the royal smiles."
"You may be right, Cousin," said Mistress Peyton, somewhat reassured, "at the same time a great deal of anxiety would have been saved me, if that old liar Daniel Pye had done as he was bid. But he shall rue his prevarications, and bitterly, too."
"You may wreak what vengeance you will, fair Cousin, on the varlet who hath disobeyed you. But I entreat you to keep your favours for those who have tried to serve you to the best of their poor abilities. As for the rest, let me assure you now that Michael Kestyon refused the seventy thousand pounds and even offered to repay the first instalment of fifty thousand on terms which were wholly unacceptable to Lord Stowmaries. The chief condition being that my lord should rescind the whole of the bargain, and take the tailor's wench back into his heart and marital bosom. You see, fair Coz, how impossible it was to treat with Michael at all, and we certainly were not to blame. My lord of Stowmaries is still the happiest man on earth; glad enough to have purchased his happiness for one hundred and twenty thousand pounds. An I mistake not he is in Rome now, awaiting the Pope's decision—but that is a foregone conclusion. Monseigneur the Archbishop hath assured him of his cooperation. Soon my lord will receive that for which he craves: religious dispensation to avail himself of the civil law of England which will readily grant him nullity of marriage, and the blessing of the Pope himself on his remarriage with the fairest beauty that e'er hath graced an ancestral home. Until then I entreat you, Cousin," added Sir John with elaborate gallantry, "to smooth away those frowns of anxiety which ill become the future Countess of Stowmaries. Let me see you smile, dear Coz, ere I take my leave, having, I trust, assured you that you have no truer servant than your faithful kinsman, the recipient of your favours, and, I trust, of many more in the not very distant future."
There was no resisting Cousin John's assurance and his smile of confident encouragement. Mistress Peyton did allow the wrinkles of anger to fade from her smooth brow. But complete peace of mind was not restored to her in full; she was almost glad that "the happiest man on earth" was away from her just now. She wanted to think matters over in absolute quietude, away from her good cousin's bland platitudes. It almost seemed as if Fate had reshuffled all her cards; she and her partners in the great life-gamble, Lord Stowmaries, Sir John and Michael Kestyon, too, had had fresh hands dealt to them. They needed sorting and the game mayhap reconsidering.
It was even doubtful at the present moment what was the chief trump card. Daniel Pye with his clumsy fingers had abstracted one out of his mistress' hand. At thought of that the frown returned and the "fairest beauty that e'er graced an ancestral home" looked not unlike a vengeful termagant gloating over the petty revenge which—in a small measure—would compensate her for all anxieties past, present and to come.