“Emily is safely at home,” was the reply; “she would not come further than Berkeley Square. As to my cousin Bellefield, he must answer for himself, if he is not irrecoverably lost; he chose to leave us to take care of ourselves. We have had an adventure, and I should have died of fright if Mr. Arundel had not come to my assistance like one of the good genii in the ‘Arabian Nights’ Entertainments.’ But I must go to bed, or Aunt Martha will be implacable; she always examines Lisette on oath as to the precise moment at which she finally leaves my room. Mr. Arundel will tell you the whole history much better than I can—so good-night!” and casting a glance, half arch, half imploring, but wholly irresistible, at Lewis, she glided out of the apartment, and was gone ere the General had sufficiently “come at” the meaning of her speech to attempt to detain her.
Fixing his eyes on Lewis with a look of sublime perplexity, which bordered closely on the ludicrous, he exclaimed, “Pray, what is the meaning of all this, Mr. Arundel? Can you explain to what my daughter alluded?”
Thus called upon, Lewis was forced to narrate the adventures of the evening, with the details of which the reader has been already made acquainted.
The General heard him attentively, though his brow grew dark as he proceeded. He listened in silence, however, till Lewis began to describe the scene in the crush-room at the Opera-house, when he became so much excited that he sprang from his seat and began pacing the apartment with impatient strides. At the mention of Sir Gilbert Vivian’s impertinent behaviour he exclaimed—
“A scoundrel! I remember when he was broke upon parade for insolence to his commanding officer. I hope you knocked him down, sir!”
“I felt strangely tempted to do so,” replied Lewis, “but he had several of his friends with him, so that I should have been certain to get into a disagreeable squabble; and in that case what would have become of Miss Grant?”
“Very true, sir, very true,” returned the General hastily; “next to courage, coolness in action is the greatest attribute in a soldier—that is to say, in a gentleman—and I honour your forbearance for such a cause. Shake hands, sir!” and suiting the action to the word, General Grant crossed the room, and seizing Lewis by the hand, shook it warmly.
At this unusual display of feeling Lewis’s pale cheek flushed, and he continued his narration to the point when he handed Sir Gilbert Vivian his card. Here he paused, and continued in an embarrassed tone of voice: “I dare say he will take no notice of this—but if he should—of course I am aware that the affair must be left entirely in your hands, and that it is Lord Bellefield’s privilege to—to defend—that is, to chastise any insult offered to Miss Grant; but as you have so kindly signified your approval of my conduct in the affair hitherto—if you could reward me by allowing me to go out with this scoundrel——?”
This was a request so thoroughly after the General’s own heart, that, as he listened to it, his little, bright eyes danced and sparkled with satisfaction, which he had much difficulty not to express in words; but his moral obligations, as a disciplinarian and the father of a family, came across him, and he replied: “Duelling is a practice alike subversive of military discipline, and contrary to the dictates of religion; it is one, therefore, against which I have always—that is, for many years past—felt obliged to set my face. Until Lord Bellefield shall have afforded me some perfectly satisfactory explanation of his extraordinary conduct, his intercourse with this household must entirely cease; a man who could thus neglect his trust is the last person to whom I should dream of committing the honour of—ahem!—my family. As to this Sir Gilbert Vivian, from what I have heard of him, he is beneath the notice of a gentleman—quite a contemptible character; the fact of his annoying my daughter proves this. If it were not so, I vow to Heaven I’d have the fellow out myself on Monday morning.” And finishing with this consistent remark his tirade against duelling, the General resumed his peripatetic exercise, much to the detriment of the library carpet.
When Lewis had completed his recital, his auditor again “took the chair,” and leaning his head on his hand, remained pondering the matter for some minutes in silence. At length he said, “Did Lord Bellefield give you any possible clue to the reason why he could not return to the Opera-house?”