Whom God Hath Joined: A Question of Marriage

by Fergus Hume

This Otterburn, high-spirited and wilful, naturally enough refused to do, though he had hitherto been obedient to Gartney's whims and fancies in every way. Not having heretofore had anything to attract his attention in any great degree, and being fascinated by the strange nature of his poet-friend, Angus had duly given him unlimited measure of the admiring adulation he so much desired. He had listened patiently to Gartney's brilliant though somewhat egotistical discourses, but now, with the irrepressible nature of youth, having fallen in love with Victoria Sheldon he began to grow tired of his friend's dour nature and pessimistic railings against the artfulness of womankind.

They had now been nearly a week at the Italian lakes, and from being her boyish admirer, Otterburn had become the faithful slave of Victoria, and finding that he could not serve both master and mistress in a strictly impartial manner, he renounced his fidelity to Eustace. Of course he was still very friendly with him and liked to listen to his epigrammatic conversation--on occasions, but showed plainly that he much preferred Miss Sheldon's society, a discovery which vexed his quondam friend mightily, the more so as he saw in such preference a distinct triumph for Victoria.

That young lady had early announced her dislike to Eustace, deeming him cold, vain, proud and an enemy to her sex; so, seeing Otterburn was to a certain extent indispensable to him, she tried her hardest to bring about a separation between these two close friends--and succeeded.

Not that she cared over much for Angus. He was certainly a very nice boy, and wonderfully useful as a carry-and-fetch poodle--but the possibility of Otterburn taking jest for earnest never occurred to her, and, ignoring with the calm egotism of a woman the chance that he might break his heart for her sake, she gave him sweet looks, undeserved frowns, was hot and cold, kind and cruel, doleful and capricious, just as the humour took her, and by a dexterous use of the whole armament of female wiles successfully accomplished the task she had set herself.

So Otterburn having surrendered at discretion, which was hardly to be wondered at against such a crafty enemy, was now devoted to his conqueror and saw comparatively little of Eustace, who though distinctly annoyed at his defeat cloaked his real feelings caused by Otterburn's desertion under the guise of careless indifference, and either mooned dismally about alone or sought solace in the society of the Erringtons, who were now making preparations for their departure to England.

Before leaving, however, Lady Errington with characteristic good nature had thrown aside all formality and called upon Mrs. Trubbles and Miss Sheldon at the Villa Medici. She took a great fancy to Victoria, both on account of her beauty and her generous straightforward nature, while Mrs. Trubbles amused her mightily with the eccentricities of her character, so she asked them to a dinner at the Villa Tagni, thereby earning the eternal gratitude of Angus, who foresaw a chance of obtaining Victoria all to himself for one whole evening.

Of course she also invited Eustace, whom she pitied for his evident unhappiness, thinking, with the natural fondness of a woman for romance, that it sprang from some unrequited love affair and not, as was actually the case, from satiety and cynicism. Eustace graciously accepted the invitation, and for once in his life looked forward to such entertainment with some pleasure, as the cold, irresponsive nature of Lady Errington roused his curiosity and made him anxious to learn more of her inner life.

A few days before the Errington dinner-party, Mrs. Trubbles so far overcame her disposition to sleep as to propose a day's shopping in Como to which Victoria eagerly agreed, being anxious to see as much local Lombardian colour as possible. On the morning of their proposed outing, however, Eustace, not being able to endure with equanimity the prospect of a whole afternoon in the company of Mrs. Trubbles, craftily betook himself on a boating excursion to the Villa Pliniana, so Otterburn nothing loth formed the sole escort of the two ladies, and this party of three were now standing in the Piazza awaiting the arrival of the steamer.

A large, fat, good-natured woman was Mrs. Trubbles, with a broad red face ever wearing a sleepy smile and a portly body arrayed in rainbow colours with plenty of jewellery. Everybody in town knew the birth, parentage, and bringing up of Mrs. Trubbles as her history had long ago passed the nine days' wonder of scandal, and was already somewhat stale and forgotten by all except her most intimate friends, who never forgot to remind the good-natured lady that she was noble only by the accident of marriage.

The Honourable Henry Trubbles was a detestable little man with a bass voice and an overweening vanity concerning his political capabilities, though he had long ago failed in diplomatic circles. A perusal of Beaconsfield's novels in his youth had fired his ambition to emulate their hero, and like a very second-rate Numa Pompilius he went to seek an Egeria who would inspire him with great ideas. The Hon. Henry, however, was so singularly plain in person and disagreeable in manner that no lady in his own rank of life would agree to help him to attain to the Cabinet, so not being able to secure rank he married money in the person of Miss Matilda Barsip, whose papa had made a fortune in army-contracting during the Crimean War. The noble house of which Trubbles was a cadet offered no opposition to the match, being rather glad to get the budding diplomatist settled and done for, so Miss Barsip was duly married with great pomp to her withered little stick of a lover, and six months after the army contractor had the good taste to die, leaving them all his money.