Submission such as this, however, was very far from Otterburn's thoughts, as he had made up his mind not to marry Miss Cranstoun, and moreover considered he was perfectly entitled to choose his own wife, seeing it was he who would have to live with her, so he went off to the States with a light heart. His adventures and that of his friends would take a long time to describe, as they had a splendid time of it in the Rockies after big game, and becoming quite enamoured of the uncivilized life drifted down Montana way, where they met with cow-boys and plenty of young Englishmen who were cattle ranching in the wilds.
During this wild existence, which had such an ineffable charm for them, Otterburn told his chum, a merry young fellow called Laxton, of his admiration for Victoria, whereupon Laxton, being versed in affairs of the heart, lectured his friend and advised him to once more try his luck.
"And I'll lay two dollars," said this sagacious young man, who had Americanised his speech, "that she won't say 'no' a second time."
With this idea in his head, Otterburn became anxious to return home, and Laxton, being somewhat tired of primeval simplicity, consented to leave the wide rolling prairies for the delights of Pall Mall. Laxton wanted to return in a leisurely fashion by making for San Francisco and going home again by New Zealand and Australia, but then he was heart-whole and had not the vision of a charming face constantly in his mind's eye. This fact being urged by Otterburn as an argument in favour of taking the shortest route possible to London, Laxton, being really a good-natured young fellow, consented, and leaving their delightfully savage life behind they went to New York. After a few days' stay in that city they went across to Liverpool by one of the big Cunarders, and duly arrived after a pleasant passage.
Laxton went off to see his people in Yorkshire, but Otterburn did not venture to trust himself within the grim walls of Dunkeld Castle, well knowing the stormy reception he would meet with, so journeyed straight to the Metropolis, where he engaged a comfortable set of chambers in the neighbourhood of Piccadilly, and started on his matrimonial campaign with a dogged determination to succeed in winning Victoria Sheldon for his wife, or, in case of failure, to depart for an uninhabited island and live a Robinson Crusoe misogamistic existence till he died.
Many events had happened in the Errington household since the young couple had arrived at the Hall, the most important being the birth of a little boy, which had greatly rejoiced Guy's heart, as he now had an heir to succeed to the estates. Aunt Jelly also signified her approval in her own grim way, and actually stood godmother to the child, whom she insisted on christening Henry, after her old love, Sheldon, although no one knew or guessed her reason for doing so.
Eustace Gartney had been right in his estimate of Alizon's character, for the birth of the child transformed her from a cold statue into a loving, breathing woman, rendered perfect by her motherhood. No one who saw her, with her delicate face flushed with joy bending over the cradle of the child, would have thought it was the same woman who had been so chill and impassive in her appearance and demeanour. The cold, white snow-drop had changed into the warm, red rose, and the passionate idolatry she had for the child seemed to fill out and complete her life, hitherto so void and empty for the want of something to love.
Guy adored his little son, to whom, for some inexplicable reason, he gave the name of "Sammy," and laughingly averred that Alizon bestowed so much love on the son that she had none left for the father, which assertion his wife smilingly denied, though it was true in the main. Lady Errington gave up going out a great deal, devoting herself entirely to the child, so Guy was left to a great extent to himself, which he by no means relished; yet he made no complaint, as it would have seemed ridiculous to blame a mother for being over fond of her first born. Still, Guy felt a little sore on this point, and much as he had desired an heir and loved his son, he almost wished the child had never been born, so much did it seem to come between them. Had Alizon been a wise woman, she would have seen the folly of loving her child to the exclusion of her husband, but blinded by maternal love she neither saw nor felt anything that did not pertain to the tiny babe she clasped so ardently to her breast.
Mrs. Veilsturm made no further attempt to force her friendship on Lady Errington, but shortly after the rebuff she had received--the knowledge of which she kept to herself--departed for a trip on the Continent, which, for her, meant Monte Carlo, where she was afterwards joined in the most casual way by Major Griff. The partners were too clever to travel together, as it might have attracted attention, but when one was at any special place the other was sure to turn up a few weeks later on business connected with the West Indian estates. So on her return to England for the season, Mrs. Veilsturm told her dear friends that she had sold one estate, although, as a matter of fact, the money she averred she had received therefor was due to luck at the green tables.
Cleopatra and her friend were much more circumspect in their second season in London. They did not wish to run the risk of any more disagreeable reports, and as their winnings at Monte Carlo had been very large the firm was enabled to dispense, to some extent, with baccarat on Sunday evenings. Mrs. Veilsturm fully re-established her position in London, and the Major was more devoted than ever, so the charming widow departed for her health to Algiers with the good wishes of everyone.