“Much obliged to you!” said Sir Thomas, anything but gratefully. “No difficulty about that, however! I hope your ladyship will come to London in time to attend Lady Bolderwood’s ball. Don’t mind telling such a kind friend as you that you’ll hear me make an interesting announcement.” He observed, with satisfaction, a startled look on her face, and chuckled. “Ay, that’s the way the wind blows!” he said, with a jerk of his head towards Lord Ulverston. “We said it must remain a secret until after the little puss’s presentation, but, lord! I suppose it must be all over the county by now!”
He then took his leave, and the party broke up. Both St. Erth and Ulverston escorted the visitors downstairs, and while the Morvilles’ carriage was waited for, Sir Thomas, finding himself beside his host, shot one of his penetrating looks at him, and said: “So it was a poacher, was it? H’m! Coming it strong, but I don’t blame you! I shan’t give you my advice, because for one thing it ain’t any of my business, for another you young fellows never listen to advice, and for a third I’ve a notion you’ll manage your affairs very well for yourself. Only don’t take foolish risks, my lord! Where’s your cousin?”
“At Evesleigh,” replied the Earl.
Sir Thomas grunted. “Gone back there, has he? Well! You be careful! That’s all I’ve got to say!”
He gave the Earl no opportunity to answer him, but turned away to bid farewell to Mrs. Morville. By the time the carriage had driven off, his own and Marianne’s horses had been brought round from the stables. Lord Ulverston lifted Marianne into the saddle, good-byes were exchanged, and the Bolderwoods rode away. Ulverston, perceiving that the Earl’s thoughtful gaze was following Sir Thomas, said: “Regular quiz, ain’t he? Rather wondered at first what m’father would say to him, but I daresay they’ll deal famously together. He’s no fool, Sir Thomas: in fact, he’s a devilish knowing cove!”
“I begin to think you are right,” said the Earl slowly. “Devilish knowing! — unless I misunderstood him.”
Chapter 20
The effect of Sir Thomas’s morning-call could hardly have been said to have been happy. Its repercussions were felt mostly by the long-suffering Miss Morville, who was obliged not only to lend a sympathetic ear to the Dowager’s tedious and embittered animadversions on the duplicity of Lord Ulverston and the Bolderwoods, but also to dissuade her from casting repulsive looks at Ulverston, and from mentioning more than once a day that the task of entertaining her stepson’s friends at the Castle imposed a strain upon her enfeebled nerves which they could ill support.
Both Martin and Gervase came in for their share of her comprehensive complaints, for she could not suppose that Marianne would have rejected Martin’s suit, had he put himself to the trouble of using a little address in its prosecution; while as for Gervase, the more she considered his behaviour the greater grew her conviction that he was responsible for every evil which had fallen upon the family, dating from the shocking occasion when he had permitted a four-year old Martin to play with a tinder-box, and so set fire to the nursery blinds: an accident which would have led to the total demolition of the Castle had the nurse not entered the room at that moment, and beaten out the flames with a coal-shovel.
It was not the Earl’s practice to argue with his stepmother, but this accusation was so unexpected that he was surprised into exclaiming: “But I wasn’t there!”