But to Clare his visit was a disappointment.
"He is rough and rather dreadful," she said to herself, "but comparatively sober. I hoped he would be mad with drink, as he was last Wednesday, and as he often is, or I would never have asked him to come."
CHAPTER XX.
Clare Cavan had wholly misunderstood the man with whom she had to deal when, by means of an anonymous letter, signed "A Well-Wisher," which she herself had delivered at his lodgings on the previous evening, she had summoned Wallace Armstrong the elder to her aunt's house.
From what her friends at the skating-party had told her she imagined him to be a degraded sot, lost to all sense of decency, barely sane, and utterly unpresentable.
"Awful thing for that poor young fellow Wallace Armstrong!" her friend Mr. Fitzroy Cleaver had confided to her. "He's got a cousin who's rather like him in appearance, and has the same name too, which is playing it very low down on a fellow. This chap—the other Wallace Armstrong, you know—is always getting had up for assault and drunkenness and all that sort of thing; and old Alexander Wallace has to pay to have the things kept out of the papers. He's been sent out of the country more than once, but always comes back, like a bad ha'penny. The last scandal about him was in the summer; my sister has a copy of the newspaper about it somewhere. I believe his uncle has disowned him since then. I am not quite sure but what he's doing 'time' now for that. People like that ought to be shut up—don't you think so? He'll only end by committing a murder or something unpleasant of that sort if he's left at large; and think how horrid that will be for his family!"
From her hostess, Mr. Cleaver's sister-in-law, Clare received the paragraph she showed to Laline, and other details concerning the reprobate in question.
"I had no idea what the creature was like, my dear; and, when he introduced himself to me at Hurlingham as a cousin of Mr. Armstrong and a nephew of Alexander Wallace, it never occurred to me to be on my guard against him. I made the terrible mistake of inviting him to dinner. Luckily, it was only ourselves and two very old friends. My dear child, when he arrived he was already half tipsy! Of course I affected not to notice it and tried to keep things out of his way; but it was of no use. He drank fearfully during dinner and grew very noisy and insulting. As to joining the ladies afterwards—he was hardly capable of standing upright and wanted to fight the butler—such an excellent man! He had been with us five years, and was really almost to be depended upon not to steal too much wine—and that is high praise for a butler! But this dreadful Armstrong person struck out at him and upset him so much that he gave notice the next morning. Mr. Armstrong used fearful language too, and made my parlour-maid cry by trying to kiss her when she handed him his hat. Dreadful, wasn't it? I assure you I didn't get over it for weeks. And the next time I heard of him he was in prison, where he richly deserved to be. My dear, such a person should be sent to an institution for dipsomaniacs or shipped to the Colonies! I believe he hates his cousin, whom he accuses of supplanting him in his uncle's favour, and that he will try and murder him some day."