Running the Gauntlet: A Novel

by Edmund Yates

[CHAPTER XV.]

EGREMONT PRIORY.

Lady Mitford's proposition of a visit to Egremont Priory, though originally made in a kind of bravado, was remembered by most of her guests--notably by Mrs. Hammond, who saw in it a better chance of flirtation than she had had since her arrival at Redmoor. Ever since Georgie had noticed the warm lingering hand-pressure exchanged between her husband and her visitor on that occasion, she had been thoroughly on the qui vive, and, like most young women ignorant of the world's ways, had imagined that the best way to nip a flirtation in the bud was by being perpetually observant of all that took place, and by letting the guilty persons know that their conduct was watched. It requires considerable experience before a woman discovers that--so long as the affair is confined within certain bounds--totally to ignore its existence is her very best policy; a policy which saves her from infinite domestic discomfort, and is besides the only possible method of galling her rival.

But Georgie was not only young, but country-bred,--which means a great deal, for London girls at seventeen know more of the world than country girls at five-and-twenty,--and had had scarcely any experience. So she went to work naturally, and betrayed her anger in the plainest manner,--in perpetual supervision, in lip-bitings and hand-clenchings, in occasional tears, which would come welling up into her eyes, however far back she might hold her head, and were perfectly visible, however hastily brushed away. To Mrs. Hammond, who was a practised duelist, all this behaviour was delightful; she took it as a tribute to her own powers of fascination, and was proportionately pleased. Flirtation, in its strongest sense, was absolutely necessary to her existence; but she never condescended to boys, and she regarded officers, when merely officers and nothing more, as very small game. She liked to entangle men of position and celebrity, no matter how grave or how old (she had perfectly charmed a bachelor bishop; and the enemies of one of our greatest physicians declared that his wife rendered his home unbearable on account of his attentions to Mrs. Hammond); and the latest literary, artistic, or theatrical lion was usually to be found hovering about her. But far beyond anything else she liked a flirtation with the husband of an acknowledged pretty woman; and the more beautiful the wife, the more bent was Laura Hammond on captivating the husband That gave her greater éclat than anything else, and she liked éclat. She liked being talked about,--up to a certain point; she liked women to express their wonder at what men could see in her to rave about; she liked to have repeated to her what men said at clubs: "'Str'ord'nary little woman the Hammond! There's Cosmo Gordon been everywhere with her, leaving that lovely wife of his all by herself, by Jove! What the doose can there be in her?" and other speeches of a like nature. She also liked to be on good terms with the wives of her admirers--a thing by no means so difficult as might be imagined by the inexperienced. There are women so spaniel-like in their nature that they will fawn on those who injure them; and some of these consorted with Mrs. Hammond with a vain idea of propitiating her by their forbearance, and thus inducing her to give up the chase. She had at first thought that Georgie Mitford might be of this order; but she was by no means disappointed to find her otherwise. She gloried in a contest out of which she could come victorious, and despised all easy triumphs; there was pleasure in captivating a man whose position or celebrity reflected lustre on his enslaver; but there was tenfold pleasure when he, in his blind infatuation, set the rules of society at defiance, and openly neglected the wife whose beauty had hitherto been his greatest pride.

So Mrs. Hammond reminded Sir Charles that dear Lady Mitford had expressed a wish that they should go over in a party to Egremont Priory, and suggested that he had better see about it at once. Of course Sir Charles saw about it immediately; told Bligh to have some luncheon sent over the next day, and to mind that they had a big fire in the keep, for it was anything but picnic weather; wrote a line to Major Maxse and other officers to join them; and proceeded to poll his visitors as to how they would go over to the spot. How would Mrs. Hammond go? How? Oh, wouldn't dear Lady Mitford ride over with her on horseback? they could get some gentlemen to escort them; and it would be delightful. Dear Lady Mitford was much obliged, but would rather not. Mrs. Hammond could ride over on horseback if she chose, and doubtless would find plenty of cavaliers; but Lady Mitford would drive in a pony-phaeton. Ah, of course! Mrs. Hammond had forgotten Lady Mitford's charming experience of pony-phaetons; and as she said this she looked round with a light and pleasant smile at Colonel Alsager, who was pulling his black beard, and glowering horribly close by. Sir Charles Mitford had no objection to Georgie's going in a phaeton--no objection to her driving, for the matter of that; but since that accident, it would be better, he thought, to have some one reliable in coachmanship sitting by her: Lord Dollamore, for instance? But Dollamore declared he was the worst whip in the world; his horrible rheumatism had crippled his hands; and why should not that tremendous fellow Alsager, who had already earned the medal of the Humane Society--why should not he go? Ay, Alsager was the very man, Sir Charles thought; and Laurence, though he saw every atom of the play on Dollamore's part, and felt himself completely jockeyed into the position, could discern no way out of it, and assented with apparent delight. He was not too pleased to see a certain look of terror which had pervaded Lady Mitford's face when Dollamore was proposed as charioteer fade away when the other arrangement was finally decided upon. Many men would have taken the change as a compliment; but Laurence had had experience, and thought otherwise. Lord Dollamore, Tom and Mrs. Charteris, one of the Tyrrell girls, and Captain Bligh, might post over in the break; in which also went the luncheon-hampers. Fred Aspen, Ellen Tyrrell, and Major Winton, would ride. So the stud-groom had his orders, and all was arranged. Sir Charles had not said how he intended to go to Egremont Priory, and yet no one was surprised, when the cavalcade was on the point of setting out, to see his big horse Tambour Major brought out by the stud-groom, who was closely followed by a helper leading Lady Jane--a very dark iron-gray mare--with a lady's saddle on her. No one doubted for an instant for whom the lady's horse was intended. A bright red spot burned on Lady Mitford's cheek; and as she settled herself in the phaeton by Laurence's side, she said in a loud and marked tone, "I hope, Colonel Alsager, I shall not have occasion to-day to increase the debt of gratitude I already owe to you."

Mrs. Masters raised her eyebrows as Lord Dollamore assisted her into the break, and afterwards had two minutes' confidential whispering with Miss Tyrrell; and Mrs. Charteris had scarcely time to frown down old Tom, who was always full of his gaucheries, before he had ejaculated, "Making the running early, eh? ah, haw, haw!"

Sir Charles Mitford saw nothing of this little performance; but Mrs. Hammond, whose eyes and ears were everywhere at once, lost not one single scrap of it. So, just before the word for starting was given, while Mrs. Masters was doing her whispering, and Lady Mitford was burning with anger, and Captain Bligh was peering into the various hampers to see that nothing had been forgotten; while Sir Charles himself, intoxicated with her wonderful piquancy (she never looked to such advantage as in her riding-habit), was coming across to mount her, she turned calmly round, and said in a voice which could be heard by all round, "No,--thanks, Sir Charles--I won't trespass on your attention. As host you have all sorts of things to look after and to do.--Major Winton, if that chestnut will stand for half a minute--here, boy, look to his head!--I'll get you to mount me, and if you'll permit me I'll join your party. I'm the best of chaperons, Major; and when it's required, my talent for admiring the landscape is enormous."

This last was uttered sotto voce, and with a quick side-glance towards Ellen Tyrrell. It was a clever move; and though by no means convincing, had some effect on all the party. Sir Charles bowed, sprang on Tambour Major, and rode away with disgust plainly visible in every feature; Lady Mitford looked disconcerted; so did Alsager, though he understood it all; Dollamore took his familiar stick in consultation, and whispered to it that she was a devilish clever little woman; Tom Charteris winked quietly at his wife; and Major Winton was delighted. He told some friends afterwards, in the freedom of barrack-room conversation, that he didn't go in for women's society and that sort of thing, you know, and he'd no idea he was so d--d nice.

So they went on. The party in the break was very humorous; they kept up a running fire of jokes against Bligh about something being forgotten, and compelled him (naturally a nervous man, and very proud of his arrangement of such matters) to dive frequently to the bottom of hampers and return with the supposed missing article in his hand, his face purple with stooping and triumph combined. Captain Bligh was not a humorist, but he retorted with several broad allusions to Tom Charteris's distillery; and, a flash of old sporting experience having suddenly revealed to him that there was an affinity of meaning between the words 'gin' and 'snare,' he dilated thereon after a fashion that Mr. George Cruikshank might have envied. They were very quiet in the pony-phaeton, for Georgie was annoyed at having so plainly shown her anger; and Laurence, finding that his few remarks about the weather and the scenery only gained monosyllabic answers, soon lapsed into silence. Sir Charles was seen going across country at a great pace, apparently comforting himself by taking it out of Tambour Major, and clearing everything in first-rate style. The mounted party seemed to enjoy themselves most of all; Major Winton was in the seventh heaven, for Mrs. Hammond did all the talking, requiring him only to throw in an occasional word, and she looked so fascinating that he devoted himself to her during the ride, entirely neglecting Ellen Tyrrell--to that young lady's great gratification, be it said, as she regarded the Major as a fogie, and was infinitely better pleased with the attentions of one of the officers who joined the cavalcade just as it emerged on the Redmoor.

The winter picnic passed off much more pleasantly than might have been augured from its commencement. During the drive Georgie had had time deliberately to examine herself, and to arrive at the conclusion that what she was doing was very foolish, and more than that, she was afraid, very wrong. It might be that her own jealousy had jaundiced her ideas; it might be that the pressure of the hand from which her misgiving first dated, was entirely imaginary. What right had she to suspect Charley of fickleness? Had he not proved his truth in the noblest way, by coming back to her in the time of his prosperity and raising her to her present position? Was it likely, then, that he would so suddenly change? Yes, she had been very wrong to permit the growth of such horrible suspicions, and she would make up for it to Charley by tenfold warmth and affection. Georgie's already-suffused face deepened in hue as she remembered what, in the bitterness of her spirit, she had said to Colonel Alsager on taking her seat in the phaeton. What could he have thought of her? Whatever he may have thought, nothing could be gathered from the calm grave expression of his face. Very likely he guessed what was passing through his companion's mind; for from the little he had seen of Georgie, he believed her to possess more commonsense than is given to the average woman, and he was certain she could show it in no better way than by totally ignoring this business, at all events in its present stage. Laurence saw plainly enough Mrs. Hammond's intentions. There was not a point in her system of strategy which he did not comprehend; and he also saw that Mitford was morally weak, and obviously flattered by her attentions. In the present stage of affairs, however, for Lady Mitford to show herself annoyed was the very worst policy she could adopt; and while she kept silence Laurence guessed she was arguing the question within herself, and earnestly hoped she would come to the right decision. He knew she had done so when, just as they were nearing their destination, she looked up with a bright smile and said, "I have been a very dull companion, I am afraid, Colonel Alsager! but the truth is I was full of thought."